


On Guard

by ItchyOutchyZ, Sabrepunk



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sports, Epeeist!Asami, F/F, Fencer!Korra, Fencing, Fencing AU, Fencing is really gay, Foilist!Kuvira, For fencing nerds, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Kuvira/Fencing as a sport, KuviraPOV, Lots of Touches, Sabrist! Korra, Slow Burn, action packed, three-weapon-wonder Korra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 65,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25458127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItchyOutchyZ/pseuds/ItchyOutchyZ, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sabrepunk/pseuds/Sabrepunk
Summary: Four young fencers struggle to find their places in the world.Modern AU where Korra and co. are all fencers.
Relationships: Korra & Kuvira (Avatar), Korra/Asami Sato, Kuvira & Asami Sato, Kuvira/Opal (Avatar)
Comments: 132
Kudos: 139





	1. Off Piste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuvira had not picked up a foil in six years, but there she was weapon in hand vying for a spot on the University Team. It was all Korra's fault and she had the bruises to prove it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do all things fencing sound so sexual?

Kuvira turned her attention back to the finger catch three and half feet above her. After a few slight adjustments, she reached out, dug her powdered fingers into the hole and pulled herself up in one smooth motion. A moment later her other hand grabbed the top volume. Her shoulder muscle contracted and she brought both hands to the geo-shaped volume. _Done_. She hung there for a second before pushing back, landing on her feet in the mat.

The thump echoed in the relatively empty climbing gym causing the three people who were just entering to turn their heads. The two men of the trio had similar facial features but where one was tall and skinny, the other short and broad. The woman was wearing an eye catching azure tank top and her hair was fashioned in a sporty bob. Avoiding eye contact, Kuvira bee-lined to the locker room.

The annoyance that Kuvira felt at seeing the picture from the school news came flooding back. It featured the bob-haired woman standing on the NCAA1 championship podium, complete with a shining medal.

She plopped on the bench and took a swig of water in an attempt to calm the sudden burst of frustration and anger. As she struggled with her inner turmoil, Kuvira wiggled out of her shirt and put on a clean work polo.

The two had met seven years ago. Back then Korra had sported messy fishtails, a loud laugh, and far too much energy. She remembered that Korra would fist-pump whenever she landed a touch. Despite being a head shorter and 2 years younger than everyone else in her group, Korra was still able to defeat most opponents with ease and displayed smarts well beyond her age.

“But not me,” Kuvira said aloud to herself in the otherwise quiet locker room _._ It belied a bitter sense of pride. She let out a sigh and her thick eyebrows scrunched together.

“Hey, I know you, right?” The question in what she thought was an empty locker room startled Kuvira. Looking up, and not surprisingly, the very object of her ire stood leaning against the doorframe nonchalantly with one hand on her hip and a grin that spread from ear to ear.

Before the climber could begin to deny the question, Korra asked, “Kuvira, yeah? You used to kick my ass in foil!”

Keeping her feeling of irritation in check, Kuvira stood up and kept her face neutral in-spite of the screaming thought in her head, which was a loud resounding “dammit.” Instead she reluctantly said “uh, yeah,” while reaching out a hand automatically. She hated herself for it immediately, “sorry about the chalk.“

Korra took it all the same by saying “no worries. We are about to start anyways. The three of us were just talking about how impressive you were with the boulder just now.”

“Thanks.” Kuvira felt weirdly uncomfortable with the compliment from the NCAA champion.

“So, my buddies Mako and Bolin are actually from the men’s sabre team. Do you want to hang out with us and maybe give us a few pointers on climbing?”

Indicating down to her shirt with a logo reading “Toph Rocks”, the name of the gym. Kuvira shook her head. She was thankful that she had the excuse of work to not prolong the conversation. “My shift is about to start. I’m doing...” She paused trying to think of what areas of the climbing gym would keep her away from the fencers. “...Stuff in the back. Admin stuff. Sorry,” Kuvira excused herself sheepishly.

“Oh, sure. That’s good to know. No problem. I’ll catch you later then. It’s good seeing you again!” Korra disappeared from the doorway after flashing another too-large grin.

Kuvira sat on the bench a few moments more with slumped shoulders. She did not look forward to the next few hours doing tedious data entry and scheduling. All because she was desperate to stay as far as she could from fencing.

  
  


\---

Kuvira snaked through the mess that was the living room. Although her three housemates were playing Mario Party on the couch, she entered her room without a word. A bed, a desk, and a small bookshelf were the only furniture in her room. The walls were barren. Blackout curtains shielded the room from the quiet college town outside.

Sitting on her bed, Kuvira dropped her elbows on her knees. Seeing Korra brought back memories that she thought she had carefully stored in the back of her mind. Kicking off her shoes and laying down on top the coverlet, she stared at the ceiling until she got a sense of vertigo from the popcorn texture. She closed her eyes.

_A young Korra standing on tip toes and craning her neck to see, lets out an excited yelp with a “it’s her! She’s coming!”_

_A really tall figure clad in green warm-ups approaches. The Olympian shakes hands with the first girl, then the one next to her, then -_

Kuvira opened her eyes, forcing the memory back down. _I’m in a different place now._

She picked up the phone to distract herself. There was only one new notification, a new friend request from Korra _._

For a moment the climber’s finger hovered over the “delete” before finally settling on the “accept.” From there it was easy to see the fencer’s page and Kuvira began swiping through posts. Mainly they consisted of fencing competition updates and various marine mammals. And of the latter, the most featured creatures were sea otters.

Just as she was about to back out to the app’s main screen, her eye was caught by an event notice. _“Tryouts for the RCU Fencing Team!”_ The event was scheduled for the upcoming first week of school. A strange temptation to hit that “interested” star welled up in Kuvira. In the end she threw the phone down on the bed without pressing it.

She rolled over and gave up for the evening. _Just get on with your life._

\---

Two and half weeks before school started, and much to Kuvira’s dismay, the three fencers became regulars at the climbing gym. It seemed to her that Bolin was naturally curious and enthusiastic about, well, almost everything. He spent a good portion of his time attempting bouldering despite the fact that he could hardly get past the starting hold. Mako, on the other hand, seemed to be bored every time he was there, resenting that he was repeatedly dragged along by his friends. Much of his conversation centered around fencing, or comparing everything to fencing. His entire focus was on the sword oriented sport and his lack of interest in his surroundings easily got on Kuvira’s nerves. 

Meanwhile Korra turned out not to be the haughty and unpleasant fencing nerd that Kuvira had anticipated. Instead, the fencing champion took on climbing with gusto, embracing it as a good exercise and way to problem solve. She gravitated to speed climbing the walls. It did not take her long to move from easier paths to more challenging ones. 

Kuvira mostly kept her distance from the three of them, not wanting to engage in any personally dangerous conversation. After about a week, the topic she had been dreading finally came up.

“Korra told me you guys fenced Cadet at a NAC against each other,” said Mako in a half bored way. He was returning his climbing shoes at the front desk that Kuvira was manning that afternoon. He was obviously itching to be back in his comfort zone.

Kuvira stiffened at the mention of the fencing tournament. The conversation was unavoidable as he stood closely by the desk and there was nothing calling her attention away. Doing her best to feign disinterest, she took the shoes. In a practiced manner she reached below the desk, grabbing the shoe spray. “Yes, we did,” was all she said.

Behind his brother, Bolin clapped his hands sending chalk in every direction. Being his usual curious self Bolin followed up. “That’s cool! Which weapon3?” Luckily he did not really give Kuvira a chance to answer before continuing on. “We haven’t had a decent women’s epée team since Zhuli graduated. You should totally join if you fence epée. Or sabre,” he added after a brief pause to take in more air. “I mean, Korra is great but as a team we haven’t done…”

“I don’t fence anymore,” said Kuvira curtly, cutting off Bolin’s rambling. From the corner of her eye, she could see Korra approaching.

“Why not? Do you have an injury?” Asked Mako. 

“No.” Kuvira stopped herself from an eye-roll. Her tone was a bit more reproachful than she wanted to let on. Of course a person like Mako could not imagine someone leaving the sport for anything other than some catastrophic bodily damage.

“Well…” He continued to press.

“Hey guys, how about that ice cream, huh?” Korra cut in, saving Kuvira from further interrogation. “I burned some solid calories today! C’mon!” In a jovial fashion, the saberist wrapped her arms around her friends’ shoulders and turned them towards the exit. Over her shoulder she gave Kuvira a curious look, as if she had wanted to know the answer too, but thought better of it. 

Thankful that the questioning was done for the day, Kuvira knew she would rather have spent twenty hours straight in a library researching obscure case law rather than spending five minutes dealing with fencers. 

—

Kuvira looked at the night falling outside before looking down at her watch. Fifteen long minutes before she could close out the desk and begin cleanup. The bulk of the evening rush had passed and only a few people still lingered at the gym. 

She absentmindedly sorted the carabiners. By no means did they need to be organized to perfection, but if Kuvira had learned anything in life, things had a tendency to spiral out of control like a knotted tangle of ropes. Good habits always garnered good results. 

Kuvira liked working at “Toph Rocks” and all of the benefits it provided. Free equipment use and climb time went hand in hand with enough pay to cover what she knew would be an expensive year of book buying. The gym was close to the campus and kept her near the law library so she could keep up with her summer reading in prep for the coming school year. 

A minute before she could lock up, the glass doors opened and in came the last person Kuvira wanted to deal with that evening. Korra stepped into the gym lacking both her usual companions and proper workout wear.   
  


_This can’t be good._ Kuvira thought while Korra scanned the people still in the gym. Stuck behind the front desk there was nowhere for the climber to hide. The fencer approached with a little hint of trepidation. 

“We’re closing in five minutes.” Kuvira said matter-of-factly even though she knew Korra was not there to climb.

“Actually, I’m here to talk to you.”

Kuvira sighed and spun her chair, already looking for a way to evade the conversation.

“Look, I know you don’t owe me anything. But the more I think of it, I just keep remembering how serious a foil fencer you were, and, well, I found this.” She pulled out her phone and slid it across the counter under Kuvira’s gaze. 

On the screen was an old photo taken some years before when digital cameras had a lower pixel count. In it are four adolescent girls of varying heights flanking a woman in green warmups. In the background are the classic signs of a fencing club. There were various countries' flags, another one with Olympic Rings and some equipment in neat rows in storage along a wall. The old woman was an Olympic champion. Kyoshi had made a surprise visit to the club to encourage young female fencers. Korra’s usual smile and distinctive fish tails were on display as she stood next to the Olympian with a slightly taller Kuvira on the other side. 

Staring at the photo for a beat too long, Kuvira asked with a calm she did not really feel, “what’s your point?”

“Well, we all managed to qualify for the camp that Kyoshi ran that year, right? I lost to you at the NAC and you promised me a rematch at camp. You never showed up and I was dying for a rematch.” Kuvira continued to wear a flat expression on her face. 

Korra quietly slid the phone back to her side of the desk. She then asked “What happened?”

Her turquoise eyes glared at Kuvira, daring the other woman to share.

“Nothing,” Kuvira said with a sigh bordering on wistful.

Korra furrowed her brows and an obvious look of disappointment crossed her face. Kuvira could feel the fencer’s body language begging her to give in and share. 

The climber was bending a little in the battle of wills. In one breath she said “the project I was under ran out of funds. My foster parents neither wanted nor could afford to keep me fencing.”

Visibly abashed, Korra dropped her eyes and said “I’m really sorry.” Her expression revealed that she was uncomfortable with the results of her pushing.

There are a few beats of awkward silence that Kuvira finally broke by saying “it doesn’t matter now. It’s all in the past.” She had said it not just as a statement, but also to convince herself. 

“Well, do you still WANT to fence?” Korra had found she could look in the other woman’s eyes again.

“Does it matter what I want?” It came out a little sharper than Kuvira wanted.

“Well, this is a great time to hop back in. The school pays for equipment, travel, and coaching. Mako and Bolin weren’t lying, we could always use more women to fill out the team.”

“It’s not that.” Kuvira fidgeted. Sure, she had stopped fencing at fifteen because of money. Hopping back in at twenty-one meant she had lost six years of training. Six years of experience. Six years of the camaraderie, the hope, the sure rush of knowing you were better than your opponents. Climbing was fun, but it had not managed to scratch that itch of testing skills and knowledge against an opponent in real time.

She knew coming in freshman year that the school had recreational fencing classes and it was common practice for teams to recruit from the classes when they needed to. She feared she would not be as good as she once was and that she would not be able to match up to the fencers already on the school’s NCAA team. 

“It’s been a long time since I fenced. You probably have way more experienced fencers.” She said quietly.

Korra flashed an unexpected toothy grin. “C’mon, I’ve seen how smooth you are on the rocks. With your skills we’ll probably see you at Paris 2024 if you start training now.” Kuvira softened at Korra’s exaggeration. There was just something really sincere about Korra’s unbelievable optimism.

“Korra, not everyone is a natural like you.” At this Korra grinned, looked a little sheepish and ran a hand through hair leaving it to rest on her neck. 

“Can you at least come to a practice at the town club? I have spare foil gear I don’t use anymore and they rent equipment. We could go over the basics and see how rusty your footwork is after your break.” There was an appeal to at least trying her hand at holding a weapon again after six years. Stopping had not been by choice, but starting again would be Kuvira’s decision and no one else's. 

“Please say you will come! As much as I want that rematch, I think it would feel better if I kicked your ass when you had some practice under your belt.”

“I’ll think about it,” said Kuvira, knowing that the dream of wiping the floor with Korra’s ass would feel all the better if she could do it not just in climbing, but with a foil in hand.

  
  


___

A quick slap on the thigh sent the two opponents into an attack. Korra struck Kuvira’s weapon out of the way with a circular flick of her wrist, forcing a wide open target. Hastening to defend herself, Kuvira took two steps back and caught the tip of the incoming foil, breaking her opponent’s attack. Quickly she sent her tip forward and compressed it making the blade bend obviously on target. “Touch,” said Korra acknowledging the hit. 

“Score is now three to four.”

The duo returned to their respective on-guard lines and bowed their legs, preparing another engagement. Before they settled back on guard, Korra wiped the bottom of her slippery shoes off on her tall socks adding to the level of dirt already there. Kuvira read the “tell” knowing she was making Korra second guess her plan of attack. 

Another quick thigh slap and an “allez” from Korra and they began again. The attack followed a very similar pattern to the previous engagement. After Kuvira blocked and attempted to hit again, but before she could riposte, Korra was ready with a block and hit of her own. “Touche” acknowledges Kuvira. “bout.” 4

The fencers took off their masks, saluted, and shook hands. Out of habit, Korra ran a hand through her brown hair to loosen the strands that had stuck to her sweaty forehead.

“Hey, good bout.” She sat down on a bench at one end of the hall. Her opponent followed placing her mask on the bench between them and swept her long braid behind her back with her free hand.

“I don’t know. It’s like my limbs can’t keep up with my brain and my brain can’t keep up with my eyes.” said Kuvira, taking the glove off her right hand. She flexed her tense fingers and cracked the joints.

“You gotta start somewhere,” said Korra encouragingly. “You’ve gotten a lot faster than last week for sure.” Korra zipped open her white jacket. Sweat had stained the shirt underneath it making it stick uncomfortably.

“Hmm” Kuvira was poking her foil to the floor absentmindedly, making the tip retract and rebound, the metal blade flexing and unbending with each push. “Do you think I have a chance of making the team?”

Korra turned to look at her contemplatively. “I mean you are already better than most, but foil is our best squad as far as the women's teams go. Jinora is Coach Tenzin’s daughter and has been fencing since she was little and has a lot of tournament experience.”

“So…Nepotism?”

“Dude, it’s not like that. It’s more of a ‘carrying the family legacy’ kind of thing. Go Bison.” Korra said the last part while pointing at the school’s mascot on her soaked shirt.

“I’m an orphan, remember? I’ll just have to take your word for it.”

Used to Kuvira’s dark humor, Korra ignored her sarcasm and continued. “And Opal is our team captain. She’s a junior, too, but she’s been in the championships every year. So…” Korra shrugged apologetically, “only one spot left on the squad.”

“M’kay.” The lighter skinned woman nodded. She felt stupid. A week and half ago she could not have cared less about how many people were vying for how many spots on whichever teams. Now that she had made up her mind to get back into foil fencing, the very real chance of her not making the team really nagged her.

Shaking herself out of the frustrating thought, Kuvira turned to Korra with narrowed eyes and a teasing smirk. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask, were you hitting on me when you came to _Toph Rocks_ that day? Digging up ancient history and everything.”

“What?! No!” Korra’s jaw practically dropped to her chest. A priceless expression.

Clearly satisfied by the banter, Kuvira smacked the glove on Korra’s arm. “Relax, I’m just fucking with you.”

Korra’s dramatic pout turned to one of her usual smug looks and she said, “Come to think of it, back when I was 12, I might or might not have a minor crush on whoever managed to kick my ass. Let’s just say it’s a prodigal complex.”

The corner of Kuvira’s mouth twitched down disdainfully. “What an idiot.”

Sprawled on the bench, Korra laughed whole-heartedly. 

Kuvira had grown to like the saberist in the two weeks they had been training together. She found that they actually shared many similarities. They were both competitive, athletic, very cocky in some aspects of life and very insecure in others.

“C’mon. One more bout.” Kuvira stood up. “And I hope someday someone will wipe that grin off of your face. Fencer or otherwise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because fencing is touching, duh.
> 
> 1 NCAA is the National Collegiate Athletics Association (in US)  
> 2 Under 16 age group competitions are referred to at Cadet. NACs are large yet still regional North American Cup competitions.  
> 3 For the uninitiated there are three distinct types of fencing each with their own rules of engagement, target areas and weapons.  
> 4 Fencing was regularized into a sport for the Modern Olympics of which the official language is french. Therefore many of the terms are used either in English or French at a local level.  
> A block is also known as a parry. An attack made by someone who has just successfully blocked is a riposte. 
> 
> (Sabrepunk might have gotten a bit carried away with the footnote this chapter...)


	2. Poking About

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aka.Try-out Pt.1 where Kuvira was picking up where she left off by trying out for the team. And our Three-Weapon-Wonder Korra poked a bear (sort of).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The world of college fencing is about to unfold!
> 
> This chapter also features the original art done by none other than co-creator Sabrepunk.

On the day of the try-out competition, Kuvira woke early. It was still chilly in the late August morning. The air was dry and her limbs were tingling with excitement. She refused to admit there might have been some nervousness mixed in.

She pulled up the white fencing britches1 that had once belonged to Korra, slipping their tired elastic straps over her shoulders. Thanks to their relatively similar builds, Kuvira was able to borrow some of Korra’s old foil gear. The lamé, an old pair of well worn knickers, a mask and cords were all welcome pieces of equipment. Unfortunately she had to buy a few items that Korra simply could not provide, which included the pistol grip weapons, a glove and jacket to accommodate her right-handedness. She also needed a chest protector for her less ample cleavage, besides Korra would need her own under her gear at the competition. 

It was no small investment to have all of the gear necessary to fence. By buying the equipment she would need, she was promising herself that she would stick with fencing even if she did not make it onto the team. At least that was what she told herself. She certainly hoped that her feelings would not get hurt again trying to get back into the sport. 

She stood in front of the mirror and took a good look at herself. The square shoulders, proportioned body, and a much more angular face contrasted greatly with the young fencer she had once been. It seemed strange to her to see an adult version of herself ready to go off to compete. Double checking that the gear was all packed in her bag she slipped on a set of dark gray warmups over her knickers and t-shirt. Then she coiled her braids into a bun and carefully tied the laces of her indoor sneakers.

\---

Kuvira put her pick-up truck into park, methodically stepped on the parking brake and hopped out. She decided to park at a structure a little bit farther away from the gymnasium. It was early and she could use the walk to calm her nerves. The sun was just starting to warm up the brick walking paths of the campus as she headed out. Korra had promised some warm-up help if she arrived at least an hour before check-in closed. Making her way to the gym she listened to the ker-thunk, ker-thunk from her large wheeled fencing bag. Its steady rhythm as it rolled on the even ground lulled her into a sense of calm. 

A few minutes later, Kuvira stood outside of the indoor stadium. Everything was quiet and no one was around yet. She pushed on the door and it was locked. She pulled out her phone and texted Korra.

Moments later, the dark skinned woman pushed the door open from inside. 

“Hey, you made it.” Korra stepped to the side and held the door open letting Kuvira in. Korra was already in her knickers, tall socks, and fencing shoes. She chose a navy colored tank top with textured stripes down the sides. A blue rubber band with a zig-zag pattern was tied around her upper arm. Kuvira had seen her wearing the accessory a couple of times now. Though it did not seem to serve any real purpose. Kuvira secretly thought Korra wore it just to draw attention to her bicep.

Inside the foyer was a woman setting up the armory station. She was unpacking and organizing the testing equipment at one table and already had repair tools and a soldering iron plugged in on the other. Kuvira took in the mousy features, a flash of round glasses and a high ponytail. The woman’s manner and focus were all efficiency and business. Clearly Korra knew the woman as she threw her a nod and smile as they passed by, but she did not take the time to introduce Kuvira before ushering the foilist into the main hall of the gym. 

“Sorry we are still setting up here. Let’s get you signed in first,” Korra said as they walked into the main hall of the gymnasium. The parquet floor had clear markings including the bright white outlines denoting fencing strips. Just off to their right up against the wall they had just come in were a number of folding tables and chairs set up. There were several laptops, attached extra monitors, a printer, a slew of clipboards, and a pink box of donuts. 

Korra sauntered over to the box and took out one of the jelly donuts. While Korra took a big bite that smeared jelly over ridiculous amounts of her face, Kuvira looked at the monitors. 

Videos featured the armorer she saw minutes ago from various angles on a loop. Much of the captured video, however, showed off the woman’s backside. “That is… creepy.”

Following her eyes, Korra chuckled. She swallowed a large bite of donut and said, “that’s just Varrick. He and Zhuli,” she indicated back to the woman in the foyer, “are married.”

“Still…”

“The two got married after they graduated a couple of years ago. He’s into tech stuff and has his own company and all. Recently, he has been testing this thing he called ‘VAR-rick Action Replay’ - V A R 2.” She rolled her eyes as she air-quoted. “He wants instant replay to be regular even at small tournaments like this.”

A man who had been connecting wires under the desk popped up abruptly startling Kuvira. “Hi, I’m Varrick,” he said, reaching out a hand and getting way too close. His thin mustache and curly hair did little to conceal his willowy build, but instead exaggerated it. Kuvira stood her ground and shook the hand. 

“Are you competing today? What weapon? How long have you fenced?” He finally took a breath long enough for her to give some sort of answer to his tirade of questions.

“Uh, hi. I’m Kuvira, I signed up for Foil. And a while?” She answered uncertainty. The man was a little full-on for her taste. The answers seemed to have placated him however as he took a step back and bent over one of the computers and spent a furious few moments typing and clicking. He looked up and said “all checked in” before diving back underneath the desks and messing with the wires.

Kuvira looked for answers from Korra. “Well, that was…. Different.” 

Across the large hall Kuvira recognized Mako, Bolin working with a guy she didn't know. Like Korra, the trio were helping prepare for the day’s tournament. They were hauling heavy plastic bins filled to the brim with weapons and masks through double doors. 

The ladies arrived at a small office that was converted from a ticket booth.

Korra stuck her head in but no one was in the small office.

“Maybe Opal went to the bathroom.” She took a bold step into the office and started to look through the paperwork on the desk. A laptop sat at the back with a spreadsheet of competitors signed up for the day’s events. The papers were arranged into neat piles and some were already mounted onto clipboards with ballpens attached. Korra picked one up and handed it to Kuvira.

“Sign the waiver and consent. I will write her a note so she can put you on the watch list for Coach when she’s back. She’ll let him know that you are eligible for the team.”

Kuvira peeked at the spread sheet on the computer screen and saw the names like _Opal_ and _Jinora_ signed up for the foil competition. Their club and school affiliations were listed in the next column over. As she was skimming she noted Korra’s name listed in foil as well.

“I thought you were on the saber team.”

Korra looked a little abashed and reached one hand up to scratch the back of her neck. “Well, I’m already on the squad. Mako, Bolin, and Kai all fence sabre only, so Coach thought it would be more useful for me to fill in the numbers in foil and épée for the rest of you.” Seeing Kuvira’s expression, she added, “Sorry, I thought I mentioned it to you at some point.”

Kuvira groaned. “Well, great. Let’s just hope I don’t meet you too early.”

“Don’t worry, I am really doing the point weapons just to have fun.”

\--- 

The morning unfolded much as Kuvira expected. She finished doing the equipment and safety check at Zhuli’s station just as people started to swarm into the gym. She was never a fan of clamorous crowds, so after a quick warm-up bout with Korra, she hid at the corner of the hall next to a target dummy and popped in her earbuds. Her go-to comfort music alternated between classical symphony orchestras and 80’s rock. Right this moment New Order’s _Blue Monday_ drummed in her ears preparing her for the rest of the day. 

Épée would be the first event and people were already settled in comfortable clicks near clusters of fencing bags. Among them Korra was having an animated conversation with several fencers she didn’t know. She could see Korra was slipping into her mental zone. Everyone got into the mood differently and Korra certainly preferred to hype herself up by chatting with people.

Shapely legs encased in fencing whites crossed Kuvira’s view. She looked up to see the rest of the person attached to the long legs. The woman was easily six foot tall. Kuvira could only imagine the distance her lunge would cover. Her long black curls cascaded down her back and puffed a bit in the air as she walked. Pulling over to the adjacent bench, she set down her fencing bag and tied her hair up, revealing “ _A. Sato”_ stenciled on the back of her white jacket in blue letters. An épéeist, then3.

Kuvira’s suspicions were confirmed when the raven haired woman took a knee next to her fencing bag and pulled out an épée hilt-first. After that came a mask with the mesh painted a two-tone red. Next was a glove, the palm a same shade to one of the reds. Kuvrira realized that the épéeist’s shoes and the long stripes up the side of her socks also matched the hues of the mask. Custom-made gear? This A. Sato was probably one of those rich kids who started fencing when they were five and would tell people they chose fencing because it was a “gentleman's sport”. Kuvira pondered how good a fencer A. Sato really could be.

The woman in question gave a small wave of her hand when her gaze met Kuvira’s. Kuvira took one of her earbuds out and paused the song.

The épéeist asked politely, “do you by any chance have a pocket knife?” Kuvira was surprised to discover that the wave had indeed been at her. 

“Um, yeah.” Kuvira reached into the pocket of her warmups and pulled out a single bladed folding knife. She wondered if she gave out some sort of vibe as someone who always carried a knife.

“I couldn’t find mine for some reason” said the tall woman apologetically as she took the knife. “I’m Asami by the way.”  
“Kuvira.”

Since the earbuds were out, Kuvira could once again hear Korra’s booming laughter. It drew attention from more than just the foilist, as Asami glimpsed over curiously too. With her back to them, Korra was boasting to a pair of younger fencers her exploits competing in all three weapons. Phrases like “mistress of all elements'' and “three weapon wonder'' were bandied about. Kuvira could practically hear the smug smile that must be on her friend’s face. The statements sounded a little rich, but she had not seen much of Korra’s fencing beside foil. In the meantime, Asami bent her head back over the bodycord she was fixing. Although she lacked proper tools, she made quick work of unscrewing the complicated end of the bodycord, stripping a few pieces of wire, reconnecting to the prongs and reassembling the fiddly plastic bits. Kuvira was impressed by Asami’s nimble fingers as she used the knife as an impromptu lever, screwdriver, and wire stripper. Obviously she had done it many times on the go in the past. 

Just as Asami was finished and was folding the knife close, Korra cracked a joke/insult about épée and épée fencers.

“I mean, épée is the best for beginners to watch and fence because it is sooo slow and they don’t have to worry about right-of-way. Better fencers move on from it pretty quick to more CHALLENGING weapons.”

It was clear that Asami had heard Korra’s comment about her chosen sport. The hand holding the knife paused in the air, her eyes narrowed into slits, and her body stiffened ever so slightly. But she quickly gathered her composure.

“Thanks for the knife,” she said to Kuvira once a polite and friendly expression returned.

“Yeah, no problem,” responded Kuvira taking the knife back. She did not quite know how to respond to Asami’s reaction just now. The épéeist must have heard Korra’s choice of words and taken offence.

A few minutes later the bout committee officials announced that the pool sheets were posted and referees began calling out competitors' names, drawing them to the strip where they were assigned. Kuvira stood up and went over to the posted sheets. The tournament had been advertised as a local event so it was not just a try-out for the uni team. There were 37 people signed up for épée making it a mixed men’s and women’s competition. Korra was seeded high on the list since she had a rating in sabre.

Next to the seeding chart were the pool sheets. Competitors were separated into smaller groups, known as pools for the first round of the tournament. Each pool was assigned a strip and a referee. Each fencer would face each other fencer in timed bouts of up to five points. It was good practice to keep track of fellow competitors in the pool. By observing and taking notes she could help Korra with the kind of advice that a strip coach would give. It was a good habit for someone on a team.

Humming the tune of “ _Blue Monday_ ”, Kuvira smirked to herself with dark satisfaction as she carefully wrote down “A. Sato” as the last name in Korra’s pool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Fencing gear is designed with safety in mind although it is far from fashionable. White is the standard color for clothing items. The fencing pants are called knickers if you are from the US and britches if you are from the UK. Everyone’s favorite piece of equipment is the breast protector because BOOBS. Men are required to wear a cup at tournaments and evil referees will check for its presence by trying to tap men with the guard of the weapon they have just inspected.  
> 2 VAR is Video Assistant Referee for soccer. So happens Varrick’s name starts with “var” as well.  
> 3 Épée is the only weapon where you don't need a lamé so the fencers' names are actually on the white jacket instead of on the lamé.
> 
> We would love to hear your thoughts, so comment away!


	3. Double Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out someone does wipe off that grin off of Korra's face.  
> Korra and Asami face off in an épée bout. The Three Weapon Wonder Korra's gotta lose some to win some.
> 
> AKA. Try-Out Pt.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, we know we weren't the kindest to the épée fencers out there previously but this chapter is where we redeem ourselves. 
> 
> And check out another original art done by Sabrepunk at the end of the chapter!

In less than twenty minutes the usual cacophony of noises of a full fledged fencing tournament were in evidence. The slap of shoes on copper strips, blades clashing, buzzers going off, referees making calls, coaches shouting encouragement and the occasional uproarious and brief celebration of a fencer landing a touch filled the gym.

Korra had already won her first bout with a score of 5-1. Kuvira watched her confuse her opponent with foil tactics during their épée bout. It was obvious Korra relied on her athleticism to sweep her opponent off his feet. Kuvira didn’t really need to tell her anything besides handing over her water bottle as her “strip-side coach”. The foilist was impatient for her event to begin, but being there for Korra was the least she could do after weeks of training together. Korra had done a lot to help Kuvira get rid of the cobwebs and rust afterall. 

After Korra finished her second bout with a score of 4-2 1, she pulled off her mask, saluted, shook hands, then walked back to the end of the strip where she could unplug from the reel attached to the scoring machine. A tall figure stood up and started walking towards her. Mask under one arm and weapon in hand, Asami’s body looked relaxed and her face remained neutral. Kuvira was unsure if she had recognized Korra as the loud-mouth who insulted her chosen fencing discipline earlier in the day.

Korra was still a few feet from the floor reel 2 and had unhooked its attached plug from her jacket. Unplugging the spring loaded line from a bodycord was always a two handed job. Instead of doing the smart thing of putting down her mask and unplugging her weapon, Korra was trying to do it gracefully while one handed. She was doing a passable job on her own until she saw the elegant épéeist waiting her turn to hook up. 

Kuvira had seen Korra manage the maneuver more than a dozen times while they practiced at the local club. But it was as if Korra’s easy autopilot off the muscle memory had suddenly stalled out completely. Asami casually reached out her empty left hand. Korra looked down at the hand for a beat as though trying to process why it was there. Clearly her whole body had gone a little slack because the plug assembly slipped from her hand. It shot sideways under tension for a few feet and jerked to a stop in midair as it was still attached to Korra’s bodycord. 

Both women reached for the joined cords just as the connection between the reel and bodycord worked its way loose. The tension sent the spring loaded line to snake dangerously by Asami’s feet. She deftly pulled one foot out of danger avoiding any bruises that might have resulted from Korra’s momentary mental shut-down. 

A blink later Korra realized they were practically holding hands in the empty air where the cables had been seconds before. 

“Oh, gee,” Korra let go of Asami’s hand immediately as if electrocuted. She walked the extra yard sheepishly and leaned over to grab the plug on the reel. She stood up pulling at the cord and could not meet Asami in the eyes, “I’m so sorry.” She held out the receptacle for Asami to plug her bodycord in. In a swift and practiced motion Asami plugged in, grabbed the assembly and hooked it to her jacket before Korra could offer any more assistance. 

“Good luck,” mumbled Korra, a bit flustered.

“Sometimes the simple act of hooking up can be so CHALLENGING for us épée fencers, beginner or not.” Her green eyes bored into Korra, “I’m sure you will get the hang of it eventually,” Asami leaned down slightly with a smirk as she added “ _Mistress of all elements_.”

Korra was left flabbergasted. Coming out of her trance, she mussed her hair angrily as she sat down on the bench. Kuvira joined her.

“What was THAT about?!” Korra exclaimed. Her face was still red with embarrassment.

Kuvira raised an eyebrow, feigning ignorance, “what was what about?”

“THAT!” Korra pointed at Asami, who was currently testing the weapon by touching her opponent’s bell guard with her épée. “What’s her deal?”

“Ah. You mean how your big mouth ran you under the bus, and then you proceeded to make a total fool of yourself in front of her?”

A guttural “grrrh” was all Korra could get out. She threw her glove on the bench and pouted. Kuvira could see some red on the tips of Korra’s ears as well. Almost the same shade as the eye-catching red of Asami’s mask.

The referee called out “En garde” to the fencers. “Ready? Fence!”

The two fencers on the strip took a few slow advances towards each other until they were closer, but not close enough for their blades to cross. Asami’s opponent was the first to make a few small lunges to test the distance. Asami’s response was to merely take a few steps back, maintaining the distance, her tip practically motionless. Suddenly and without an obvious outward sign, her opponent flew forward in a swift lunge with a flick up the wrist in an attempt to knock Asami’s tip away. Calm as a cucumber, Asami allowed the distance to close between them. She easily avoided the search for her weapon instead aiming her tip to her opponent’s exposed wrist.

“Halt”, the referee called in time with the buzz on the scoring machines. “One light, point to Sato.”

The two fencers carried on much the same for two more points. Each time her opponent made an attempt at attacking to score, Asami swiftly countered and struck. She kept her opponent from landing during their engagements so every interaction was one light. 

Korra relaxed a bit once she could find something to focus on. The two fencers danced on the strip. No one made a move to attempt the fourth touch of the bout. Korra gestured with an upturned palm indicating towards the strip and said rhetorically, “tell me that’s not like watching paint dry?”

As if on cue, Asami decided to go on the offensive for once and swiftly closed the distance between her and her opponent. As she moved, her tip made very small circular movements until it caught the other épéeist’s weapon. Controlling her opponent's weapon with her own she finished closing the distance and landed a very clean and clear touch right in the middle of the fencer’s chest. 

“Well, all I know is that _ASAMI_ there,” Kuvira drawled over the épéeist’s name, “is probably going to kick your butt hard in the art of paint drying.”

“ _Asami?_ ” Korra imitated her tone, albeit poorly. “What are you, best friends now?”

Kuvira smirked. She enjoyed irking her friend. And if she was not mistaken, she sensed a bit of jealousy in that retort. In which direction though, that was the question.

  
  


___

There was little time before the next bout was over and Korra had to fence again. In pools a competitor only had one or two bouts of rest in between their next match. Kuvira continued to watch each fencer with interest. She had not really tried out épée and was not used to the pacing. It was fascinating to watch how each fencer tried to outsmart their opponent and try to avoid double touches.

Korra would find any excuse to chat with people in between bouts. She was not concerned with her showing in the event so did not take watching the fencing as seriously as Kuvira. However, whenever Asami was up, Korra would go oddly quiet and watch with interest to see the épée fencer in action.

“On Deck,” called the referee a few minutes later, “Korra and Asami.” As soon as the current bout was over, the two would finally face each other. Korra came to sit next to Kuvira on the bleacher near the strip. Instead of initiating the usual small talk Kuvira had some to expect, she watched her friend fidget nervously. She could feel the vibrations in the bench as Korra’s leg bounced up and down.

“Calm down. Just watch your distance and make sure you aim for the arm then the body,” said Kuvira offering the only advice she could recommend. She still had not figured out the nuances of Asami’s fencing and did not know what else to say. The bout finished and the fencers unhooked from the scoring machines. Kuvira got up to help Korra plug into the machine in order to avoid the debacle from earlier. 

Hooked up and ready to go, Korra tested her weapon by pressing the tip into Kuvira’s foot. Nothing happened, no telltale beep from the scoring machine. “Shit, grab another cord. I must have broken it earlier when...” Korra trailed off in a worried tone. While Kuvira went back to their bags and dug for another bodycord, Korra could be heard giving apologies to both the referee and to Asami for the delay of bout. The referee pulled out a Yellow Card3 and presented it in front of Korra. Asami looked disappointed that her opponent should start at a disadvantage before they could even begin to bout. 

As quickly as she could Kuvira helped Korra slip the replacement bodycord through her sleeve and glove. Once Kuvira had secured the plug assembly to her jacket again, Korra moved back to the center of the strip and allowed the referee to check her épée. Although she could not see Korra’s face she could hear her mumble another apology to the taller fencer.

“On guard. Ready?” The referee looked between the two fencers as they faced off. Korra settled into her regular on guard position, but her shoulders looked a little tight. Kuvira wondered if Korra had managed to get her head back into the game despite the distraction from earlier.

“Fence.”

The two women began the épée dance. Much like in Asami’s first bout, she let her opponent set the pace. They moved back and forth testing each other with the occasional feint. After about forty agonizing seconds Korra finally made a real attack narrowing the distance.

“Halt, one light! Korra one-nil.”

They began again under the direction of the referee. Again Korra eventually got bored with waiting and closed the distance.

“Halt, one light. Korra two-nil. Ready? Fence.” The words spilled out of the referees mouth mechanically. Even the referees got a little bored sometimes with épée matches. 

Again Asami let Korra dictate the distance. After fifteen seconds of impatience Korra closed the distance again, trying the same maneuver that had worked on the previous touch. Instead of being compliant and acting exactly the same way as she had in the previous engagement, Asami avoided Korra’s blade and aligned her tip with Korra’s oncoming hand just as Korra adjusted and hit her knee.

“Halt, double touch. Score is three to one.” Ready? Fence!”

This time Korra began her attack the moment the referee said “fence”. She shot forward in an advance-lunge that covered the distance between the on guard lines. She was aiming straight for the mesh covering Asami’s face. Kuvira thought she could see one corner of Asami’s mouth reach up into a smile. Inches before Korra’s tip reached her mask the machine beeped loudly and the referee called “HALT.” Asami had pinned Korra’s foot to the floor momentarily with a toe touch.

“One light. Asami two to three.” Korra walked back to the on guard line slightly perturbed. Her impatience had cost her the point. She wiped the soles of her shoes off on her socks. Behind her, Kuvira could see Asami smiling, and her eyes following Korra, as if to gauge her next move. As Korra turned around to face Asami again, the tall épée fencer dropped her smile and shifted to a focused expression once again. Kuvira realized that Asami was not trying to goad Korra. She seemed to be simply enjoying the guessing game of fencing a new opponent. It was the same kind of fresh excitement of getting to know another person, but through pointy weapons. 

The two fencers began another engagement. In short order the referee called “one light” again. “Asami three to three.” The score was tied up with plenty of time left in the bout. Just under two minutes had elapsed from the match.

Korra waited as long as she felt patient for and once again pressed forward with an amazing lunge that displayed incredible hip flexibility and leg strength. She missed her opponent’s hand and aimed for the arm and then towards the body, steadily moving forward all the while. There was a loud “ping” as her tip caught on a well worn indentation on Asami’s guard then another “beep” from the scoring machine as Asami’s tip caught the inside of Korra’s forward elbow. 

“Halt! One light. Asami four to three.”

This time as Korra walked back to the on guard line muttering to herself. Her body language spoke of her irritation. Kuvira tried to catch her friend’s attention before she returned to the bout. She mouthed as clearly as she could “HAVE FUN.” As her friend turned back to face her opponent again, Kuvria thought she caught Asami checking out Korra’s ass, but it was hard to track eyes in a fencing mask at that distance. The red was a little distracting.

With Asami clearly in the lead, the taller woman needed either a single light or a double touch to win the match. She had used the first few touches of the bout to get Korra’s measure. She had let Korra do all of the work leading up to this point while barely breaking a sweat herself. If she wanted, Asami could just passively wait for Korra to make a mistake or to let the time run out. 

“Ready? Fence!”

The match took on a totally different tone. This time Korra was more patient. Surely she was reluctant to let the bout end by time running out, but she was desperate not to let Asami force another error. After a few long drawn out seconds Asami was the first to attack. There were a few interactions between their blades then they both withdrew. 

Two more times they closed distance and had the blades strike before they pulled away. It truly was a dance now. Each of the fencers was taking turns setting and breaking the tempo, swapping seamlessly between lead and follow. This time Korra was smiling inside of her mask.

Korra came in with a purposefully short lunge testing Asami’s parry. Just as Kuvira thought the bout was going to end without a winning touch, the more experienced épée fencer pulled back out of distance and took a short fast advance that narrowed the space between her feet and moved her weight so it was forward of her hips. Her weapon arm extended and she pushed off both legs bringing her back foot forward in a crossover step. It was the most beautiful fleche that Kuvira had ever witnessed. Asami closed in lightning fast. Her tip sweeping up and encircling Korra’s blade before whipping in an arc to catch Korra’s flank. Then her feet finally landed and her momentum slowed as she passed a stunned Korra.

“Halt! One light. Asami five to three. Bout!”

The two women doffed their masks and did a quick salute to each other and then the referee. They tucked their masks under their weapon arms and came together for the required hand shake. Despite her loss, Korra was beaming. 

“Nicely done,” said Korra tipping her head in appreciation as she reached out with her empty right hand. “Your fleche is amazing. I don’t think mine is half as long.” Korra admitted genuinely. “You had me at the get-go.”

Asami reached out her unarmed left hand palm up for the shake. Maybe because they used opposite hands instead of the usual sportsman’s shake, to Kuvira it looked like they were bowing to each other after the completion of a formal dance. 

“I did run you around a little bit, but you kind of deserved it. It was a fun bout, thank you,” said Asami sincerely before she released Korra’s hand a little reluctantly and returned to her end of the strip to unplug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We had a lot of fun bouncing ideas off each other and fleshing out this chapter. It was definitely the most fun for me (ItchyouchyZ) to write so far. Hope you enjoy!
> 
>   
> 1 Foil and épée bouts are timed. It is not uncommon for épée bouts to finish without a winning score of five points.  
> 2 Floor reels are a spring loaded spool of cable attached to the scoring machine and a fencer. Inside the reel is a retractable cable with enough tension to keep the cord from tripping a fencer as they move back and forth on a strip.  
> 3 Yellow Cards are awarded for the first error in each bout whether it is for coming to the strip with malfunctioning or causing body contact during bouting. A second error would result in a Red Card which is actually a point for your opponent.


	4. Beat Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we finally see competition Kuvira and the conclusion of the tournament.
> 
> AKA. Absolute shit ton of fencing and we apologize for being primarily about fencing, in a fencing AU. Did we mention the fencing?  
> AKA. Try-out Pt3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit long...
> 
> As always please check out the original fan art done by Sabrepunk at the end of the chapter!

Bouting in the pools was almost over. Both Asami and Korra won the remainder of their bouts in the pool and unzipped their jackets part way while the bout committee prepared the tableau for the direct elimination rounds1 that would follow.

Kuvira grew more nervous as the start of her event drew closer. As the first round of épée finished up Kuvira felt the excitement coming back. She sat on the bench applying fresh tape to the barrel of her foil2. It was one of her rituals. The weapons were barely used so new tape was not strictly necessary, but she switched from the yellow tape it was shipped with to a deep forest green. 

There was a general shift in the feel of the room as the épéeists moved away from the strips they had been assigned to during the pools to make room for the foilists. Fencers were warming up by doing practice bouts with friends or shadow fencing. Lunges were being stretched and the lull in the noise from the machines was noticeable.

Referees shouted names and Kuvira gathered her things to move closer to her designated strip. As she waited for the other fencers in the pool to assemble, Kuvira chewed her bottom lip.

“Hey, it’s gonna be great,” said Korra as she gave Kuvria a friendly nudge in the shoulder with her fencing mask. Korra threw Kuvira an encouraging grin then walked over to a nearby strip.

The first bout at the strip included Kuvira. She went to the right of the referee and plugged into the floor reel. Nervous in spite of Korra’s encouragement. Kuvira walked up to the referee and held out her tip to be checked. The weight held3 and then two fencers touched each others’ mask bibs. Everything was in good working order. The two competitors gave a quick salute and put on their masks while backing up to their on guard lines. 

Kuvira took a moment to adjust her mask and exhaled deeply. Everything went quiet around her. Her legs bowed, lowering her center of gravity, her foil prepared in six. Her upper body stayed very steady as her legs carried her forward after the referee called “fence!”

Kuvira began with an attack that she knew would purposefully fall short. She wanted to gauge her opponent’s reaction. The woman across from her took a few fast retreats and a wide parry that caught nothing. They moved back and forth on the strip for a few seconds before Kuvira moved in for another attack. She began with the same hand movements as before, but did much longer lunge avoiding the expected parry.

“Halt. Attack all the way. One to zero.”

During the course of the bout Kuvira settled into a steady fencing rhythm. While easing back into the sport she had focused on cleanly executing simple actions. With her opponent being slower, Kuvira repeated a tactic until it no longer worked. Then she would adjust by adding one more movement making it a compound action to hit. Occasionally she missed and hit off target, but by the time the bout was over the score was 5-3.

Korra was still finishing up as Kuvira sat on the bench. She watched Korra manage to unhook from the reel without incident.

“At least this time you weren’t trying to take anyone’s foot out.”

“Could you not?” Korra’s face immediately dropped as Kuvira’s mention of her previous embarrassment. She rolled her eyes but could not help peeking over at Asami’s direction. Korra cleared her throat and pulled her attention back to the fencers in front of them, “you should watch Jinora fence. She'll be the toughest one in your pool.”

Kuvira looked over at the indicated fencer. Between points she would push up her mask to take a breather. She had big brown eyes and some baby fat still clinging to her face.

In spite of her lack of years she was a good fencer. She paused thoughtfully between each encounter clearly running the engagements through her head. It delayed the bout a little as she settled herself back on guard each time, but she was using the delay to her advantage. The young woman clearly outclassed her opponent. She dominated the timing, pushing the other fencer about the strip at a tempo she dictated. Kuvira noted that she did move her weapon far more than strictly necessary. The wider movements would be a bigger opening for Kuvira with her longer reach.

A strange feeling flooded over Kuvira. Maybe her ego had inflated after winning her first bout or maybe it was the rush of adrenaline, but she felt certain that she could beat Jinora. And when she defeated Jinora, it would go a long way to proving that she belonged on the team. Although her eyes were glued to Jinora’s bout, her brain had stopped taking it in. Instead she was remembering how her foster parents shut down her promising fencing career. They had sold off her fencing gear without asking Kuvira what she had wanted done with it. Then she thought of Korra encouraging her to keep practicing the previous week. Things had not felt this clear and certain for a long time. Finally she had a very real and tactile way to prove herself to the world. 

Blinking away the memories, Kuvira brought herself back to the gym. She looked past Jinora’s bout to the strip just beyond. A fencer with fluid movements and light footwork grabbed Kuvira’s attention. A flash of olive green caught her eye as the slim woman backed down the strip closer to Kuvira’s side of the room. There was a bandana peeking out from under the tongue4 of her mask. Looking lower she read “O. Beifong” on the back of the lamé. Her steps were so light and airy there was barely a slap of the woman’s feet on the strip.

Without an obvious change in tempo, Beifong reached out with a full lunge and flicked her wrist. The blade arced so quickly it was hard for Kuvira to follow the tip. It must have landed because the scoring machine beeped and the referee called “halt!”

She was fascinated by the fencer’s quiet calm. She exuded a collected confidence and never once celebrated a touch with either a scream or fist pump. It was always clear when she had landed cleanly. Between each engagement, the fencer would catch her breath, pace calmly to her en garde line, and bend her blade twice one way and once back the other. Kuvira got a little lost just watching her fence. 

“Ow!” Kuvira could not help exclaiming aloud. Korra had nudged her hard in the ribs. “What?” she demanded, not yet realizing Jinora’s bout had finished.

“That was the second call, you’re up, dummy.” Kuvira stood up, reluctantly peeling her eyes away. She grabbed her mask and went to the reel to hook up. Somehow her nervousness had evaporated and she was simply ready to see what the next bout would bring.

“Ready? Fence!”

The bout ended too quickly for Kuvira. She had barely felt like it had begun when she saluted her opponent and shook his hand.

Two bouts down and three more to go in the pool. However the next bout would be against Jinora. She plopped down on the bench gulping down water. Training was still not the same as an actual tournament. Fatigue was creeping up on her. She pulled a bag of banana chips from her fencing bag and popped a few into her mouth.

“Ew. I can never eat during a tournament. Makes me feel gross,” said Korra pulling a face. Since Korra was competing in both foil and épée, she would have to alternate between the two weapons as the day wore on shifting her equipment and focus. She was taking off her foil lamé and grabbing her épée gear. Kuvira wondered if downing that donut before the tournament began would have done more to give Korra an upset stomach.

“So what is the best thing to do? In your humble opinion?” Kuvira tilted her head to Jinora, who was currently talking to a small statured guy Kuvira recognized as the one with Mako and Bolin hauling equipment earlier.

“She really likes to set people up. It’s all a psychology thing, which is shit she totally got from her dad. Just skip past all of that and go for the kill.”

“Hmm. Okay.” Kuvira contemplated Korra’s words, formulating actions in her head.

“Hey, like I said, you’re going to do great. Whelp, I am off to my first D.E. Should be a few minutes.” 

A few minutes later Kuvira was moving back and forth with Jinora on the piste. She was waiting patiently for the younger fencer to attack. When Jinora finally did, she took a great big advance and lunged with her blade not wavering from extending towards her chest. Kuvira took just enough retreats to do a late parry and riposte on her target.

“Halt. Parry riposte. Kuvira one to zero. Ready? Fence!”

As she fenced Jinora, Kuvira realized something that she had seen but not really registered earlier. Jinora had a tell. As much as she moved the blade around in complicated motions to mask her intentions, she clenched her back hand just before a genuine attack. 

Kuvira took full advantage of the inadvertent signals Jinroa was sending. The score climbed in her favor for the next two touches. It was a useful tell, but her opponent grew tired of constantly being the only one attacking. Jinora purposely slowed and lowered her tip to goad Kuvira into attacking. Kuvira waited a few seconds then smacked Jinora’s blade in a sharp beat as she moved forward. 

“Halt. Beat attack off target. Ground is here. Ready? Fence!”

She had miscalculated the distance and thrust her arm late catching Jinora in the knee. Kuvira vowed that she would not make the same mistake again. Still calm and collected she tried again when the opportunity presented itself. The younger fencer lowered her tip and once again Kuvira beat the blade. Jinora had been planning for the attack, but Kuvira aimed the tip higher on target and narrowly avoided the parry Jinora attempted.

“Halt. Beat attack on target. Kuvira five to two. Bout!”

Kuvira removed the mask, saluted and shook hands with her opponent. Jinroa’s movements after the match were a little stilted and she put on a somewhat haughty look, like she was fighting the urge to grimace. Kuvira could see how Jinora might be nonplussed at the defeat. Jinora had come into the bout assuming she would win easily against someone without a reputation. It was a valuable lesson for Jinora, but Kuvira also knew it would mean other fencers would be less complacent in their matches later.

Meanwhile Korra was in the second period of her first direct elimination bout. Kuvira looked over and saw that she was not the only one watching the match. Getting unhooked from her first D.E., Asami’s eyes followed the fencers as they worked back and forth down the strip.

___

Despite trying not to be over confident in her skills Kuvira lost the next match 3-5. Being at the tournament was always going to be more challenging than being at a club practice, but she felt good about how many of her old skills were recovering. 

Meanwhile, Korra was getting tired. Her bouts in the pool were distracting her from focusing on épée. It was difficult to do the quick change between the two weapons. Although the bout committee knew she was competing in both events there was a mix up that almost saw her forfeit her second direct elimination match. They had given her a few minutes before she had to do the match as she had just finished up with the first round in foil.

“Doing two events in tip weapons is brutal. Remind me not to do this again.” Korra had her jacket almost completely unzipped and was using a towel to dry off her sweaty hair. The two friends were sitting on the bench between rounds taking a water break. Despite her exhaustion it was plain that she was having a ball.

“I took a look at the seeding after the pools. You have me beat out on points, I am in sixth and you are in fourth. If we do face each other it won't be until the finals.” Kuvira bumped shoulders with her friend. The first round of foil elimination matches would not take place until they had gotten the next round of épée out of the way. 

“Something to look forward to, I guess. I’m off to get nasty bruises. I forgot how painful those tips can be,” Korra said as she stood and zipped her jacket.

“Do you want me to strip coach?”

“Nah, just keep the bench warm for me. You know how I feel about épée.” She stuck her tongue out and made a face. “I’ll save my energy to mess up the foil standings in your favor,” said Korra with a smile and a wink. She sauntered off to a bout that she would eventually lose 11-15.

It was after lunch time that the direct elimination bouts began for foil. When their bouts did not overlap Korra was faithfully by the strip and ready to give advice. The first bout had Kuvira placed against the 27th seed. Korra had not even had a chance to stripside coach because the match ended before it even reached the end of the first period. Kuvira had practically steamrolled the beginner fencer with very little remorse.

The second round still saw Kuvira fencing someone who had come out of the pools below her in the rankings. She was not expecting the bout to be very challenging, but it certainly would be longer than the previous match. When it reached the third period she was mopping the sweat out of her eyes more than she had done in practices with Korra. Finally she won with a narrow margin. 

For the third round Kuvira was slated against the third seeded fencer. Some of the nerves came back as it promised to be a more difficult match. She would need to pull off an upset to advance to the quarter finals. Her opponent was a woman in her early thirties reluctant to leave the box5 and who kept a close distance. The bout was rife with off target lights as each jockied in close proximity to find an open target. Kuvira turned and leaned and stretched to finally eek out a victory. 

Meanwhile Korra had not fared as well. In her third round of foil elimination bouts she found herself against an older man. It turned out he was a coach at a nearby club who was keeping his skills up by doing the occasional tournament. As a wily old fox he outmaneuvered Korra and made her miss and hit off target. When he wasn’t forcing aim errors, he whipped his blade to hit her in the chest with a curving and somewhat infuriating prime. Subsequently she was knocked out of the tournament. 

“So I just went to see who you are up against next,” Korra was now out of her fencing jacket altogether, bare arms glistened with sweat. Kuvira envied her lack of layers. She had lowered the zipper of her jacket and was peeling the breast and under-arm protectors6 from her damp shirt. The shirt would not even have the chance to get clammy before she would get back to the strip. Kuvira looked up expectantly at Korra, waiting to hear the rest of the news.

“You’ve got to fence Jinora again. If you win, you are in the finals. If you lose you still have a chance to fence off for third. Either way you are in a good position to make the team.” 

“Alright then.” Kuvira was trying to get pumped up again, but rock climbing was a different animal from fencing. Three weeks was not enough time to build up the cardio needed to sustain the energy for a prolonged bout and she had already done three fifteen touch bouts. The day is feeling longer and longer.

  
  


They were seated with a good view of the strip that had the final bout for épée. It was no shock to Kuvira that Asami was hooked up there. It was the break after the first period and the épéeist was sipping on some pink electrolyte drink. Asami’s opponent was getting some advice from a middle aged man in purple warm-ups that screamed they were from the 80s. His hair and mustache were meticulously gelled so that even a strong wind could not displace them.. His spectacles occasionally glinted in Asami’s direction. Beside him was a slim man with even more ridiculously coiffed hair leaning in to give hints to Asami’s opponent. The man at the center of their attention just kept nodding.

Kuvira looked back at Asami whose attention wandered their way. The two made eye contact and Kuvria felt inclined to tilt her head in a nod of acknowledgement. Asami returned the gesture just as the referee called “time” letting the competitors know the first break was over. 

The épée final was gathering a small crowd that partially blocked Kuvira and Korra’s view. The two stood up so they could keep watching Asami fence. The two fencers were well matched, but the purple jacket’s face was giving away how he felt about the bout. It seemed like in the few points since the break the lines in his face were even deeper. 

Asami was being more proactive in the bout than she had been in any other that Kuvira watched. As the time closed in on the second period Korra leaned in and said “every time he does a circle six, he looks to beat in four as he does an advance lunge.” Kuvira watched as her friend’s words played out two more times in the bout.

“You should tell her in the next break. I don’t think she saw the pattern yet,” suggested Kuvira. It did not seem as sporting for Asami’s opponent to have so much support while she was alone at the event. 

“No… You tell her.” Korra suddenly seemed timid. “At least you have had a full conversation,” she added quickly as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Kuvira did not want to disabuse Korra of the impression that she and Asami had really said all that much to each other, but it might be better if Kuvira did approach Asami. She had a feeling that Korra might get a bit tongue-tied.

“Let’s see what happens.”

A few double touches later the referee called “time” again bringing the bout into the second break. As Asami walked back to her water bottle, Kuvira approached cautiously. She raised an eyebrow in question to see if her presence was welcomed by the épéeist. 

“Hey, what’s up?” asked Asami while indicating it was okay for the other woman to approach. Kuvira put herself between Asami and the group of four at the other end of the strip. She told Asami about what Korra had seen the other fencer doing and how Asami could counter it. 

“Hmm,” she paused for a moment thinking about the bout. “Thanks, you are right, I missed that,” she sounded a little disappointed in herself. 

“We thought it might help.” Kuvira indicated her head towards Korra, who was currently looking everywhere but in their direction. “Would be a shame if the boy-band there took the title,” Kuvira said pointing her thumb towards the group huddled at the other end of the trip. She flashed Asami a wicked grin that was returned. The break was just about to end.

Kuvira returned to stand beside Korra and watch the last period of the bout. Most of the fencers in the hall had paused whatever else they were doing to catch the end of the match. When the referee called the final halt of the épée competition the spectators let out an uproarious cheer. It had been a very close match, but Asami had used the other fencer’s bad habits against him to get one touch lights finally sealing her victory.

While Asami saluted at the end of the bout, she threw an extra pump of the blade towards Kuvira and Korra with a smile. In Kuvira’s peripheral vision she watched Korra’s eyes widen slightly at the acknowledgement. 

Once the épéeist was unhooked she walked over to the pair. “I appreciate the help!” She held out her arm for a bump.

Kuvira happily bumped her wrist. “No problem.” Asami then turned to Korra and offered her the same. “I understand you had something to do with the advice?” Korra was clearly discombobulated at being singled out for thanks. She raised her arm and stiffly made contact with Asami’s wrist. “Guess the stupid armband trick actually works,” Kuvira noted to herself in astonishment as she caught Asami’s eyes dropping down to Korra’s bicep. Korra had still not managed to formulate any words before Asami said another thanks and went back to where her bag was sitting.

“Hey, that’s me,” Kuvira nudged her friend back into action as the referee called her name for the next match. “You better land back on Earth to coach my bout.” 

She hooked up across from Jinora. The young woman was bouncing around with more energy than Kuvira felt. It was going to be a long fifteen touch bout if only because her energy levels were so low. She would not be able to dominate with speed and would have to spend a lot of mental juice outwitting Jinora.

At the end of the first period Kuvria was up 7 - 5. It was not the widest of margins, but if she could just stay ahead of the spry fencer, Kuvira could hold on to victory. Korra was trying to give her some advice as she downed a bottle of water. It was pretty much going in one ear and out the other. Kuvria was too exhausted to really take it in. 

“Time,” called the referee letting the fencers know the break was over. Kuvira donned her mask again and headed back towards the on guard line. With each passing engagement Kuvira was flagging more and more. She was attacking less and waiting for the parry more often than she should have. Her tip wandered off target more frequently as well.

“Time,” was called once more and they entered the second break. The score was 13 - 12 heading into the last period. There was Korra again with a look of concern ready to give advice to Kuvira.

“Hang in there, you only have a little bit left,” she said in a tone that was supposed to be encouraging. Kuvira gave her a dark look. “Just try and stay ahead on points. Try not to end up in over-time,” said Korra, putting a hand on Kuvira’s shoulder. The fencer nodded and got ready to go back out.

“La Belle7 and Time,” said the referee much to Kuvira’s chagrin. The bout went exactly the opposite direction Korra had wanted. They would have to do a coin toss to determine priority and add one minute to the clock. If either she or Jinora scored a clear touch they would win. If the minute ran out without a score, then the winner would be the winner of the coin toss. She had chosen heads in the toss.

“Priority,” said the referee, flipping the coin and looking at the result, “to Jinora.” This was a disaster for Kuvira. She needed to get one light in her favor to win. Jinora could go on the defensive and run her around the piste, stripping her of energy and keeping Kuvira from getting the final point by running down the clock. Kuvira saluted her opponent again barely keeping the grimace from her face. 

It was frustrating to have the younger woman continually dance out of distance. Kuvira could feel the clock ticking away with every footstep. When the green eyed woman saw the flash of an opening she tried again and again but her tip either fell short or landed barely an inch off target. The grunts of Kuvira’s frustration became more audible outside of the mask with each halt called by the referee. Eventually the inevitable happened.

“Halt. Time. Jinora wins with priority.”

Kuvira saluted and plastered a smile on her face that did not spread to her eyes as she shook the younger fencer’s hand.

The day went in a blur after that match. Kuvira still had to fence a bout for third place which she lost 7 - 15. It was not so surprising considering the time between matches was not nearly enough for her to recover much energy. Besides, she was still too frustrated with the way the match had finished against Jinora. It would have felt better if the younger woman had at least kept fencing for the final touch of the bout rather than letting it go to time. The bubble of “enjoying fencing for fencing’s sake” that had been keeping her afloat had popped during the semi-final and the last shreds of her adrenaline dissipated with it.

Kuvira sat on the bench trying to muster an interest in driving home. Korra had told her that there were awards through 6th place and that Kuvira should stick around to get her medal. From her seat she had a good vantage point from which to watch the final bout of the foil tournament. Kuvira was pleased to see that the light footed O. Beifong was wailing on Jinora.

A few minutes after the final match was over the bout committee called the participants to gather around for the award ceremony. When Kuvira’s name was called she dutifully bowed her head to receive her medal and shook hands with the growing line of medal recipients. Jinora had come up to the front with a “bison” hoodie. Kuvira looked for the winner in the crowd, and realized that the foilist was in warmups in the school colors, and her olive green bandana was much more visible as it hung around her neck. Then the official announced “and in first place, Opal Beifong, captain of the RCU team!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus question for brownie points: Can you guess which weapon Sabrepunk fences? (hint: It's a trick question)  
> Comment please!
> 
> Besides loads of fencing, this chapter also features --- FOOTNOTE EXTRAVAGANZA (courtesy of Sabrepunk)!!! Really sorry with the asterisk system that it got really disruptive 
> 
> 1After the pools there is a tableau set up where the top seeded fencer bouts with the bottom seeded and the second fences the second from the bottom and so on. These are 15 touch bouts where if you lose you are eliminated and do not advance to the next round.
> 
> 2Foils have a spring loaded tip and the housing is called the barrel. They are required to have 10 cm of tape from the barrel down the blade with another piece wrapping the barrel to prevent grounding while touching on target.
> 
> 3Foil and épée tips are checked for spring resistance by referees at the beginning of each bout by the use of a weight for each weapon type.
> 
> 4The tongue of a fencing mask covers part of the back of the head and is what really keeps a mask on. BTW masks are not called helmets because they do not protect all of the head.
> 
> 5The box is the space between both of the on guard lines where the fencers start the bout.
> 
> 6 An under arm protector or plasteron is an extra layer of protection that goes over the weapon arm underneath the jacket. The seams for this are in a different place than jacket seams to fend off any danger of a weapon penetration.
> 
> 7La Belle literally translates into English as “the Beautiful”. This is called when a bout is at match point with a tied score.


	5. Broken - Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kuvira gets broken things repaired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::GASP:: A short chapter with NO FENCING or footnotes!

Kuvira was at the climbing gym when her phone buzzed. There was a text from Korra instructing her to check her email followed by a bunch of over-excited emojis. She had a feeling she knew what was up, it could not really be anything else anyways.

She swipe- refreshed her mail app and no surprise there was a new email.

The subject line said “Congratulations! You’ve made the team!” The body of the email included a roster of the various weapons. Kuvira rescanned the list of names a couple more times even though her name was clearly listed under the women’s foil roster. She felt an urge to broadcast the news to everyone she knew but then realized bitterly that in fact the only person who would care was the person who told her to check the news in the first place.

She started typing in the messenger text box.

“ _ Yay. I got in! _ ” Too excited.

“ _ Yep. I’m in. _ ” Too indifferent.

She tapped backspace feverishly.

In the end she just took a screenshot of the email and typed “ _ is this what you are referring to _ ?”

“Fuck yes, teammate!” followed by the high-five and the celebration emojis was Korra’s response.

Kuvira smiled. She was glad the mediator for the complicated relationship between herself and fencing was Korra. 

The whole stop-fencing-years suddenly felt so far away and in the past now. The weird detour on a particularly complicated climbing route that was life had finally led back to a path she could ascend again. This was real. She was on the team.

  
  


\----

Kuvira realized the “armory” mentioned in the email was actually just a small closet sized room next to the coach’s office at the gym. The coach had requested everyone get their equipment checked out before the first practice to make sure there were no distractions down the road.

Despite her ex-guardian’s best efforts to get rid of all of her fencing gear, she had a few old bodycords tucked away in storage. Unfortunately she had no idea if any of them still worked. Early and prepared for everything, Kuvria decided to take advantage of the said “armory hour” a few days before the first practice to get them fixed. Korra had also left her with the bodycord that had broken during the competition.

Kuvira knocked on the partially open door. A familiar polite and calm voice called, “come in.”

She pushed the door open. Immediately in front of her was a chair facing the wall to her left. There was a narrow workbench with a desk lamp at one end. Up against the opposite wall was a slim and shabby couch that stretched from wall to wall. Seated cross legged in the rolling chair was the raven haired épéeist.

The woman’s hair was down and she wore a pair of glasses, behind which her face was lightly made up. It was a far cry from the Asami that dominated the tournament. 

“Hi. Good to see you again, Asami.”

“Welcome to the armory!” Asami put down the thick book she was reading.

“I didn’t know you were going to be the new armorer.”

“Yeah, I think Coach Tenzin took one look at my major and decided I was armorer material.” She raised her book to show Kuvira the cover, “Semiconductor Engineering: Theory and Application”. “You know, something to do with machines-” She picked up the tester cube on the bench, “and electricity.” She casually pressed a prong into the tester, making the red light to go off. 

She uncrossed her legs and turned to face Kuvira. “Anyways, how can I help you?”

Kuvira opened a crossbody bag and poured the contents onto the workbench. “I’ve got a couple of old cords. Don’t try too hard if they are beyond salvageable, use them for parts if you want.” She then pointed to the icy blue one, “and you probably remember that Korra’s broke at the tournament.”

The armorer raised an eyebrow upon hearing Korra’s name.

“Okay, let’s check them,” she grabbed the spider web of cords and began separating them. “You can either wait here for a couple of minutes, or come back in an hour so I can give you the verdict.”

Kuvira weighed the options. Eventually her curiosity about the épéeist overcame her antisocial tendencies. “I have nothing else going on for the rest of the day,” she shrugged with aloofness and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The beginning of semester hecticness never affected Kuvira as much.

Asami scooted her rolling chair closer to the workbench allowing Kuvira to squeeze past her to take a seat on the tired couch. Her wiry frame easily fitted through the opening.

After the knot of cords was undone, Asami plugged each into the test box and wiggled wires to see where things were broken. She made small talk, conscious of Kuvira having nothing to do. “I saw your bouts at the tournament. You did a great job.” 

“Tha.. thanks.” Kuvira said through her teeth trying to rescue herself from the haggard cushions. She finally managed to get up to sit at the edge of the couch.

“That semi was intense. Not sure I agree with a few of the ref’s calls and I wish Jinora didn’t run you ragged in the end, but,” Asami shrugs, “just don’t tell her I said that.” 

“Of course,” Finally settled in her rigid straight back posture, Kuvira looked down at the floor. “I wasn’t expecting to have gone that far honestly.” She was not just trying to be modest, a part of her was convinced she would not rank in the top sixteen let alone top four. The statement held more truth than Kuvira wanted to give credit.

Asami looked away from the workbench and measured Kuvira’s response curiously. She decided not to inquire any further. Instead she asserted, “I think you three will make a very intimidating foil team this season. I look forward to seeing you guys compete.” She spoke of the rest of the team with an easy familiarity. 

“Yeah, me too,” Kuvira admitted. Not wanting to keep talking about herself, she cleared her throat and asked, “what about you? You’re an impressive épée fencer. Why weren’t you on the team before?”

It was Asami’s turn to look unsure. She paused the work in her hands for a second, “um, I was just trying to focus on school work the first year and I was abroad my second.” Sensing that they both had secrets they preferred unsaid, Kuvira dropped the topic. An uneasy silence descended on the room, only broken up by the tools and the tester in Asami’s hands.

Finally Asami said, “you and Korra are close.” It was a statement, not a question. Kuvira was a little taken aback by how the topic shifted but not entirely surprised that their conversation would eventually steer towards a certain loud, very versatile, and undeniably fascinating fencer. 

Instead of playing it down. She admitted, “yeah, she helped me a lot preparing for the tournament. Hate to admit but I’m kind of lucky to have a friend as annoying as her.” Asami looked at her, again with that slight furrow in her brows, weighing her words. Kuvira did not avert her gaze, fern green meeting jade. After a beat, a mutual understanding was reached. Asami’s brows unfurrowed and her lips twisted to a tiny smile that spreaded across her face. She turned back to working on the cords,

“How did you two meet?” This time her tone was relaxed, instead of probing.

“We fenced cadet way back when. We hadn’t seen each other for a long time but reconnected this summer.” Seeing Asami’s surprised expression, Kuvira added, “Trust me, it was not as dramatic as it sounded.”

“Was she like this when she was little?” Asami asked almost shyly, all curiosity. She was coiling up one of the bodycords neatly and added a velcro tie to one end. She finished her work and put down her tools, turning her chair towards Kuvira giving the foilist her full attention. Her hands clasped and rested in her lap.

Kuvira narrowed her eyes, trying to assess her memory of Korra. “Very much like now, but also different. Imagine… a polar bear cub with those giant paws. An out of proportion fluff ball sloshing around thinking it is lethal, but in all actuality it’s just being adorable. Don’t get me wrong, you would be a fool to underestimate her on the strip though...”

They laughed at the mental image of Korra being a viciously cute polar bear cub. After the laughter had died down, Asami handed Kuvira back two of the cords. “These two are fixed. The last one might take some soldering. I don’t have my soldering iron here yet so I’ll have to take it home. You can pick it up during my next set of hours or at practice.” The armorer pulled a paper bag out from one of the drawers, wrote Kuvria’s name on it including a cute doodle of a pocket knife crossed with a foil, and deposited the still broken cord inside.

Kuvira stood up and swung her bag over her shoulder. “Appreciate it.” She squeezed past Asami again, making her way towards the door.

“No problem. See you at practice.”

Kuvira simply nodded and walked out the door.

“Oh, by the way,” Asami said to her back, “Tell Korra to come pick up her own bodycord.” Kuvira paused. She heard the scratch of sharpie on paper and was really curious to see what Asami had doodled onto Korra’s paper bag, but only raised an eyebrow at the instruction. She considered for half a heartbeat before turning back around to find the armorer’s attention already back in her engineering tome already.

“Is that a general rule applying to all of us, or… just Korra?”

The armorer raised her head. Seeing Kuvira’s eyes flashed mischief, Asami’s cheeks turned just half a shade pinker. Though she did not falter at Kuvira’s teasing, “I have no idea what you are asking about.”

“Sure you don’t. I will let her know.”


	6. Salle de Pratique

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first team practice does not bode well for training Kuvira.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the original fanart done by Sabrepunk featuring the butch Lin that we all deserved...

It was the first meet. Kuvira had not wanted to be late, but she did not expect to be alone in the gym, either. She squinted into the empty gym semi darkness trying to see if she had missed anyone. The late afternoon sun could not reach through the windows on the far side of the hall. Instead the empty space was filled with gray-blue twilight.

 _Is this a prank? One of those initiation things or hazing for new team members?_ Everything was quiet except for the tapping of her fingers on the empty bench beside her. 

Kuvira checked her watch again. There were TWENTY SEVEN minutes before everyone was due to arrive. It was a decent amount of buffer time in her opinion. Pulling up the email again she reassured herself that she had the right time and the right day. She also started to think back if she missed any time change. No, the first meet of the RCU fencing team would start in T-minus twenty six minutes. Supposedly.

In annoyance, she opted for her earbuds. She settled into the steady swelling of the heroic harmony of Strauss’s _Also sprach_ _Zarathustra_. Just as the first dissonance note hit, the lights of the gym suddenly flickered on and she heard an audible gasp despite the earbuds. Kuvira squinted to see a figure at the switch panel visibly startled.

Kuvira took her earbuds out and stopped the music. 

“What are you sitting in the dark for?” The person quickly regained her composure and stepped into the light. Kuvira’s eyes adjusted to the brightness and recognized Opal. The team captain was dressed in a leather jacket and jeans, with a pair of ankle boots. Her short hair sported a gentle wave and long bangs. Her legs looked impossibly skinny in the tight fitting jeans, but Kuvira knew they must be strong to pull off the light footwork she had witnessed at the tournament.

“I... well the door wasn’t locked so I just came in.” Kuvira somehow felt the need to defend herself from Opal’s accusatory tone. “I thought someone would be here?”

Opal chuckled. “No other team meets here today besides us. I guess security unlocked the door but didn’t turn on the lights.” She began walking towards a set of double doors at the other side of the room. As she walked she began digging around in the totebag on her shoulder. She tilted her head to the side, “you know you’re half of an hour early, right?”

That tone again. “I was just making sure I wouldn’t be late.” Kuvira said defensively.

“Don’t I wish everyone on the team was like you.” Opal breathed the words out like a sigh. She was just at the double doors and had found what she was scrounging for. “Since you are here so early, you can have first choice. With one hand she unlocked one set of doors and with the other she handed over the thing from her bag. It was a name placard in red with Kuvira’s name embossed in gold. “For your locker.” 

“Uh, thanks.” The team captain had done her homework. She not only knew who Kuvira was, but she had taken it upon herself to get the team’s placards squared away.

Kuvira followed Opal into the team locker room. The front portion of the room held scoring equipment, folding chairs and tables. Separating the room were banks of tall and unusually wide lockers. Many had names on them, but a few were missing placards. 

“Once you claim a locker, help me set up?” It did not quite sound like a request, more like the orders of a team captain.

\---

They had just finished turning on all the scoring machines as people began filtering into the gym, everyone introduced themselves to each other. New team members made sure to find their squad mates and veterans wanted to see what they had to deal with for the year. Kuvira recognized a few of them as having been at the tournament. 

Asami was one of the first few in through the doors and seemed to have come straight from class. Unlike Kuvira who was already dressed for practice, Asami was wearing a gray sweater, maroon crop pants, and a pair of classic all white sneakers. She had a big leather book bag slung over her shoulder, dragging her wheeled fencing bag with one hand and carrying a small brown paper bag in the other.

Kuvira and Asami greeted each other briefly before the latter headed to the team locker room. After placing the last of the plastic cones in the practice area as instructed by Opal, Kuvira entered the team storage just as Asami was leaving to go to the women’s locker room. 

Kuvira had selected a locker next to Korra’s. Her friend had yet to show up and something was taped below the name tag. Kuvira looked closer to see a piece of lilac tape holding a paper bag to the shiny metal surface. There was a sharpie sketch of an adorable polar bear baring its fangs. _Guess the wimp didn’t go pick up her bodycord as instructed._ Kuvira mentally shook her head at Korra.

Right on the dot when practice was due to start, Korra and the brothers swept into the gym. All three already changed into their fencing knickers and were hauling their fencing bags behind them all the while talking animatedly.

When Korra saw Kuvira she grinned and came over to give her a big hug. They had been working together for weeks for exactly that moment to hug as teammates, and Kuvira could only appreciate the warmth of their comradery that the hug conveyed.

“Are you excited?”

“Meh, no more than usual.” Kuvira played it cool.

“You better brace yourself!” Bolin warned, “Coach Beifong is one tough lady.”

“Beifong?” Kuvira looked at Opal’s direction in confusion. The woman in question was silently taking roll on a clipboard. _Is everyone related?_

“Yeah, Opal’s aunt.” Korra explained, “she had been coaching Opal before Tenzin hired her.”

“Infamous for being ruthless.” Bolin said ominously, “ruthless I tell you.” He finished with a shiver. Korra also cast her a look of sympathy.

Kuvira was not one to be easily intimidated. In fact she was completely in favor of a strict training routine and a hardcore believer that hard work yields results.

Just as their conversation turned to inside jokes about personalities on the team, four more people entered the gym. Leading the squad was a tall slim middle-aged man wearing warmups in the school colors. He was bald with a very cavalier goatee that made Kuvira think of a lost asian Musketeer. Upon seeing the man, Team veterans shuffled to the open area.

“That must be Tenzin?” Kuvria asked Korra.

“Yeah, the one and only Head Coach slash Zen Master slash expert hypnotist. He tries very hard, though.” Kuvira could see that. He was tall and slender with a thoughtful face. It was then that the Coach began to address the team. 

“Everyone gather up!” All twenty two fencers had formed a semi circle facing Tenzin.

“Hi, I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself to everyone yet, I’m Tenzin the head coach. Please address me as Coach. This,” he indicated to a woman with strikingly long white hair that could not have been far into her fifties, “is Kya, our trainer.” She stepped forward and waved a hand. She reminded Kuvira of the powerful witches in Chinese Swordsman movies, though her eyes were much kinder. 

He continued to introduce the adults standing with him. “This is Coach Lin Beifong, in charge of foil.” Lin had a stern triangular face, sharp eyes, and short gray hair. Her most memorable feature was a pair of parallel scars on her cheek. Lin only gave a small nod and scanned the crowd. Her eyes locked with Kuvira for a quick second before moving on to intimidating her next target.

Tenzin continued, pointing at Zhuli, whom Kuvira immediately recognized from the armory table at the tournament, “I am delighted to announce that one of our alumna, Zhuli Moon, has joined our team this year as the new coach for épée.” A few of the fencers hooted and clapped their hands. Zhuli stepped forward and gave a tiny bow. She did not seem very athletic but Kuvira knew physicality was not the only essential with fencing. After all a nickname for the sport was “physical chess”.

Introductions out of the way Tenzin then launched into a meandering speech about all sorts of business topics covering training, equipment, safety, rules about hazing, goals for regionals, and a bit more rules for travel. After what seemed like half an hour (only about 10min), he finished the speech by saying “this is a fresh season and we can not rest on past glory,” he was looking at Korra, who shifted uncomfortably next to Kuvira. “We will do better, be better than we have been before. I want each and every one of you not only mastering your weapon, but mastering yourself. To those ends I also want the more experienced team members to make sure to foster a stronger sense of harmonious team spirit. Sportsmanship and responsibility are not antithetical to having fun while fencing.” There was a short grunt of disagreement from Coach Beifong at the last sentence. 

“Our first few practices will be mostly separated by squad. We will have chances to come together as a full team in the months ahead, but we will always start with a full team warm up. Opal. if you would do the honors?” He clapped his hands together indicating Opal was not in control. 

Opal stepped to the middle of the drew everyone’s attention. She was wearing a green t-shirt with worn out letters that seemed to spell a high school’s initials. Her short straight hair was bound by a different bandana that sported a print of tiny birds.

“Alright, guys, grab a strip.” She was not loud or yelling but all of the fencers in the hall quickly shuffled to form one line along the bleachers facing her. “I’m going to lead the warm up and footwork drills before we break into groups.” She scanned the fencers, “let’s begin with advances down the end and retreats back.” Her words were not commanding but there was just something authoritative about her tone.

As the fencers started moving forward, Opal took a couple steps back watching them before turning around and started advancing herself, leading the pack. Kuvira watched her form from behind. Her steps were just as light and fluent as she remembered.

The gym was filled with the stomp of feet and the occasional grunt accompanying a lunge. Opal would alternate between leading and turning around to occasionally correct some newcomers' positions. After a few simple drills, things became increasingly more difficult. She had the group pile on more complex moves all the while demonstrating them with the same lightness she possessed during the tournament. Kuvira tried her best to keep up. 

After about twenty minutes of footwork, conditioning and stretching, the team split up into smaller groups by weapon to do drilling with their respective coaches. The practice drills for the foilists worked similar to the footwork. Instead of Opal leading the group, Lin would show them the drill once with her niece and then have them perform it repetitively in pairs. Lin somehow looked more intimidating in the puffy black coaching jacket with her hands behind her back.

All too soon Lin complicated the bladework drills by adding footwork. Meanwhile the handwork was constructed of subtle and controlled hand movements. Kuvira could already feel the fine muscles on her fingers and forearms twitch from the repetition. 

Kuvira could sense the frustration coming off of Lin when the group of foilists could not quite hit their target or missed a step in the footwork. As the drills wore on the coach let everyone know with loud grunts and sighs her increasing impatience. 

When she was younger Kuvria did not remember fencing practice feeling so much like military drilling. There was barely a moment to take a breath or reassess how to do something before Lin cracked the whip again. Whoever Jinora or Opal were paired with got an almost endless tirade of corrections from the girls, too. Kuvira was more of a watch and learn sort and would have preferred to get there by herself. Repetition was no doubt the best way to learn a new skill, but with the amount of adjustment coming from all quarters, she felt bombarded and her brain was overloaded. But she gritted her teeth and carried on. She fervently hoped the next practice session would be less strict.

It did not take long for Kuvira to realize Bolin was absolutely right about Lin being ruthless. Well into the sixth drill, one of the boys tripped backwards and ended up curled on the parquet holding his ankle. Pausing for only a heartbeat to take in what was happening, Opal said calmly though not without urgency, “I’ll go get Kya.” 

Jinora had been drilling with the boy and helped him to hop one-legged to a nearby bench. Everyone on the foil team stopped what they were doing to see how Lin would handle the situation. Some were relieved for the break. They took off their masks revealing flushed faces and sweaty hair, only to earn a bark from Lin, “did I tell you to stop? Keep drilling!”

She turned dramatically and walked to the bench that was occupied by the boy.

Kya came in at a brisk walk, with her kit slung by her side, Opal a couple of steps behind her.

“Really, Lin? The very first practice of the season? Do you have to beat them up this much?” Kya gestured to the whole gym before crouching down next to the boy and examining his ankle.

Kuvira looked around the gym. The sabre and épée teams were having a much more enjoyable time. The coaches for the other weapons had not been pushing their charges as hard as Lin. Over at sabre Korra was free fencing with Mako, her signature grin visible through the mask. Asami was playing “the glove game1” with one of her épée teammates, and occasional giggles could be heard as either of them landed a touch. The foil team was the only group that looked noticeably miserable.

“Oh, please,” said Lin without an ounce of remorse. She did not offer any kind of counterpoint to Kya’s frustration other than throwing up a hand and shrugging her shoulders. Over her shoulder she barked at the team again, “rotate to your left,” while continuing to hover over Kya and the injured boy.

Kuvira rotated to her left to face Opal. Just like her footwork, her bladework also exuded the same kind of lightness and precision. Kuvira could always clearly feel the tip land on her torso and see the blade bending, but never too hard. She doubted she would be able to find any bruises she could attribute to Opal the next day. What did get on her nerves was that Opal made corrections to Kuvira’s hand position more than once during their brief interlude. 

Finally, after another long fifteen minutes Coach Tenzin announced “free fencing!” to the whole hall. All of the foil team relaxed and were relieved to have a few minutes to go suit up in electric. Opal reminded everyone to hydrate as she changed her sweat soaked bandana for a fresh one.

Once everyone was ready for bouting, Jinora walked up to Kuvira and asked if she would like to fence. At first Kuvira thought it had something to do with the tournament, but it had been hammered into her that it was always polite to accept the offer of a bout. It did not matter who asked, you were supposed to say yes if you were indeed ready to fence. It was extra important since the request was coming from her SQUAD MATE. Besides, Kuvira assumed that despite the next half hour being for free fencing, Lin would expect all of the foilists to finish fencing everyone else on the foil team.

“Mind reffing for us?” Jinora asked Opal when the captain drew near.

“Sure.” Opal put her mask and weapon down off to one side and stood at the ready to referee. 

Kuvira's worries proved to be baseless. Jinora was very kind and generous during the bout. Jinora was encouraging Kuvira to decode the subtle signals of each feint encounter, and seemed more than willing to try unfamiliar techniques rather than relying on the ones that could give her points. The bout began to feel more light-hearted than their encounters at the tournament and also more relaxed than the rest of the practice had been. 

After a few touches Opal paused the bout and gave each of the fencers advice. 

“Try to pay attention to where she is feinting. The second time she does the same feint, you need to remember how you reacted so you can start to give her false signals. If you got for a windshield wiper parry, switch to a circular one. If you don’t show a parry make sure to take a really late one with a bigger. retreat.”

It rubbed Kuvira the wrong way because she was glad to finally be _fencing_ at a fencing practice. At this point Kuvira was about to be done with all the peer advice. The phrase “free fencing” usually meant that fencers were free to fence how they wanted in the bouts and who they wanted. 

For a few touches Kuvira resisted taking the advice on principal, but it was becoming increasingly clear that Jinora was benefitting from Opal’s critique. After an excruciatingly fierce inner battle, she gave up and tried Opal’s suggestion. And immediately scored.

“See? I...” Opal began.

“Please don’t say I told you so,” begged Kuvira as she settled on the on-guard line.

Opal was surprised but her lips pressed into a smile. “You’re stubborn, aren’t you?” She did not seem to take offence at being cut off.

“Sorry, comes with the package.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a mandatory reporter I would have to turn Lin in for the way she treats students. She would be booted out of coaching for being a slave driver rather than encouraging students by other means. --- Sabrepunk
> 
> And yes, Kuvira totally listens to Superman-esque music to pump her up before practices. --- ItchyOuchyZ
> 
> Tzk tzk Sabrepunk is losing her touch. Only one meager footnote for this chapter:  
> 1 Also known as the Master’s Drill, this game teaches fencers to be wary of their control of distance.


	7. Remise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which keys are hot potatoes and in which connections are pursued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The following chapter depicts unsafe driving and underage drinking. We do not encourage or condone these behaviors. Do not have your life imitate art._
> 
>   
> This is a long ass chapter compared to our usual. Funny we thought fencing would take a lot of words but guess when it came to flirting...

“First practice drinks at my place!” Korra shouted as she dashed into the women’s locker room.

“Is that a thing?” Kuvira grimaced and rubbed her sore calves with her nearly numb fingers.

“It’s a thing for us Bison!" Korra exclaimed. “After all, our drinking team has a fencing problem.”

“You’ve no idea what you got yourself into, huh?” Opal balanced a couple of masks, gloves and weapons in her arms precariously, heading towards the equipment storage. 

“I really didn’t. Do I get a shower first?”

“Nope.”

“We have to be gross together. It’s a team building thing,” said Opal with a straight face. Kuvira could see a little smile in her eyes before Opal caught sight of Lin across the gym. The older woman gave her a stern stare and a nod before leaving through the double doors. Opal eyed the floor for a second before looking up again.

“Are you going to spy on us for Coach, captain? Keep a tally of how many drinks we had?” Bolin asked without any sign of seriousness as he did a scribble motion as if he was giving a parking ticket. In return from behind a pile of masks, Opal gave him a cold stare that bore more than a passing resemblance to ones Lin was giving earlier.

\---

Kuvira threw an errant piece of gear into the locker and closed the door. Her brand new name plaque was just at eye level. Still getting used to seeing it, she took a deep breath, “shall we?” 

Next to her, Korra was still trying her very best to fit her excess of equipment into her locker when yet another fencer emerged behind the opposite side. 

Blue eyes immediately followed the newcomer. “Uh, just a second,” Korra gave the locker a forceful shove. The door closed and barely latched with a pathetic click. Beyond Korra, Kuvira could see that Asami was already changed and ready to leave. She was heading towards the team locker exit, eyes glued to her phone.

“Hey,” Korra interrupted Asami’s attempted getaway. Asami tucked her phone in a back pocket and looked up at Korra.

“Uh, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry about what I said, you know, the other day at the tournament.”

Asami’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, one eyebrow lifting.

Korra continued, “I hope... I don’t know... that you won’t think the worst of me, now that we teammates?” Korra’s courage was apparently dwindling with every word she uttered.

Asami’s other eyebrow moved up to the same level as the first. Just as Kuvira thought she was about to throw back a sharp retort, Asami’s face softened and she grew a friendly smile.

“You have nothing to worry about, Korra. I could never think the worst of you. Besides, I wouldn’t have won the tournament without your tip.” She cast a knowing look at Kuvira’s direction. Kuvira was trying to pretend she was part of the wall.

Korra pressed on. “By the way, thanks for the bodycord,” a subtle strip of red bloomed on Korra’s cheeks.

“You’re welcome.” Asami smiled back as she walked through the door.

“Wait!” Korra jogged to the doorway. “A couple of teammates are thinking of having some drinks at my place to celebrate the new team. We were wondering if you wanted to come along as well,” she belatedly indicated towards Mako and Bolin. 

Opal was waiting patiently for Kuvira and Korra to finish up in the equipment room so she could lock up. Korra had said “we”, but Kuvira knew she did not mean it that way. At least Korra had enough courage to ask.

Asami checked her phone again and considered for a second before finally saying, “sure.”

\---

The six of them walked towards the parking structure in a loose pack. The sun had gone down long since and the lights of the campus walkways threw everything into contrasty patches of black and yellow.

Bolin and Mako strode in front side by side. Opal was close behind them, hands in her pockets, listening to Bolin’s monologue about his theatre club audition half-heartedly. Still feeling a little aloof from the group, Kuvira was a few feet off to one side from Korra and Asami who were trailing behind.

“Who has the key?” Bolin asked no one in particular.

Korra pulled a set of keys out of her jacket pocket. “Here,” she said and tossed them to Opal, who caught it with one hand.

“I don’t want to drive,” she shrugged coolly. “Bo,”she tossed the keys forward in a high arc.

Bolin turned and clasped onto the keys in mid-air with both hands. He looked down at them dejectedly. “I don’t feel like driving, either.”

Kuvira and Asami watched with amusement as the key “hot potatoed” around the group of old friends. The pack never stopped making its way to the lot. Kuvira felt it was probably one of the most jock things she had ever witnessed. The last toss was from Bolin to his brother. 

“Guess I’ll drive then, Bro.” Mako said dryly.

As the group entered the structure, they headed to the lone cars on the ground floor. They gravitated towards a blue, nearly vintage Volvo station wagon. It was not a young car, but it seated five comfortably enough.

Korra turned to Asami, “Do you want to ride with us or...” It had just dawned on her that there were six people in the group. Before Korra could finish the thought and come up with an alternative, a nearby sleek gray coupe’s turn indicators blinked twice with a low-key “beep-beep”. She traced the beep to Asami’s extended hand. “Or... you could just follow us in your sick ride.”

Asami regarded Korra with a casual look. “Well since I don’t have the awkward fencing bag in the passenger seat any more, do you want to ride with me?” Before Asami had even finished her question, Kuvira could see signs of betrayal flaring up on Korra’s face and she just knew her friend was going to give an enthusiastic yes. She had been hoping to commiserate about the first practice with Korra but...

“Sure!” Came the expected response. Kuvira noted to herself that her friend was not to be trusted when it came to crushes. 

“Shotgun!” called Bolin leaving Kuvira and Opal to take the back seat. As soon as everyone was situated in the car, Bolin thumbed to the other car and said, “did that just happen?”

“How could she abandon us like that?” Mako exclaimed.

“I think the worst part is that this is actually Korra’s car,” said Opal thoughtfully. 

Kuvira let out a guffaw. Of course it was Korra’s car and of course she had opted to ride with Asami. She vaguely remembered seeing the blue Volvo at the gym and club but never thought much about it. Once inside, it seemed it could only be Korra’s car. From the wood carved killer whale dangling on the rear-view mirror, to the sticker on the glove box with the Fencing Association, to the NCAA cap tucked behind the passenger seat , and to the pride flag sticker on the rear window, it practically screamed Korra.

Asami’s souped up Mazda RX-7 “vroomed” into life. Kuvira looked over at the convertible and her friend sitting comfortably inside. In a swift and smooth action, Asami backed the car out of the space in a perfect arc and sped toward the garage exit. Mako put the Volvo into drive and they followed at a more moderate pace.

After they exited the windy campus streets the Mazda came to a stop at the red light of the freeway on-ramp. The Volvo followed suit and pulled up in the adjoining lane.

It was late and the traffic was light. On the sign it said “Two Cars per Green”. Korra rolled down the tinted window. She looked expectantly at Mako as Asami revved the engine. She shouted over to the Volvo “go on the second cycle!”

“I am not doing this.” Mako said flatly. He paused barely a moment and asked his passengers, “are we doing this?” Opal sensed what Kuvira did not. Heaving an audible sigh, the captain simply leaned back and braced herself. 

The light turned green, but Mako did not go.

The light cycled to red again. 

Kuvira could hear herself begin to say “Don’t you dare” as the light turned green again but the loud guttural roar of Asami’s engine and a sharp tire screeching cut her off. She turned to see Korra thrown back into her seat and horror spreading across her face, before Mako shouted “I guess we are doing this!” and floored the gas pedal forcing the Volvo to give its own roar. 

Bolin was screaming “nonononononono!” with frantic arm waves, but he needed not have bothered. The twenty year old wagon was hardly ready to challenge a sports car. While the Mazda shot up the ramp, the Volvo slowly creeped up doing zero to sixty in ten seconds flat and falling behind significantly. 

As the wagon’s speedometer slowly climbed, Asami and Korra had already made their way to the leftmost lane and the contoured back of the gray coupe was becoming smaller every passing second. But thanks to a typical Republic City bad driver who had to go 40mph in the left lane for no reason, Asami had to brake and change lanes to avoid slamming into him. This gave Mako and the wagon a chance to catch up.

It was a short drive on the freeway from campus to their destination. Only three exits in between, and their ramp was fast approaching. The two cars were running side by side. One moment it was the Volvo pulling ahead and the next it was the Mazda leading by just a hair. Korra’s now excited face was visible in the coupe’s side mirror, while the Volvo sounded alarmingly loud to Kuvira’s ears. 

Both of the right lanes exited the freeway and the off ramp curved widely to the right. Just as Mako was gaining on Asami again with the geographical advantage, the gray coupe’s engine suddenly rose to a higher pitch. Asami had downshifted to fourth and was inching past them on the outside of the turn. Neither of them were budging and letting the other pass as the lane merge approached. The whole wagon screamed for their life as Asami passed with barely feet between them. Mako finally slammed on the brake in defeat, sending everyone forward in their seats with Newton’s First Law of motion.

They parked near the apartment shared by Korra and the brothers. 

Bolin tumbled out of the car. “I think I’m going to be sick,” he slumped on the curb, looking more ashen than usual. Even the stubborn cowlick on his head managed to look droopy.

Once the coupe came to a halt lining up with the parking space perfectly, Korra hopped out, “That was amazing! I didn’t think we would make it!” She looked completely awestruck.

“Are you referring to the race or surviving the drive?” Kuvira asked pointedly as she exited the Volvo. “Cuz I certainly didn’t think we, or YOUR CAR, would make it out ALIVE.”

“Oh, this is your car?” The racecar driver in disguise stepped out of the coupe and flipped her long curls out of her face. Everyone caught that she was wearing a pair of leather driving gloves. She rested her elbows on top of her petite sports car and inspected the Volvo more carefully this time. From the outside, Korra’s car was a classic boxy wagon lacking modern lines, but it was well cared for. The blue paint was shiny and the creamy white interior was neat and clean. Her eyes lingered on the pride sticker for a moment too long. “I love these old models. They are very reliable and can take a bit of pounding.” Asami complimented.

“Yeah, whenever you see one in a post-apocalyptic film, you just know it’s going to be used like an urban tank. It gets hit and keeps on running,” said Korra with a lopsided grin. Asami’s smile got even wider at the statement. 

Opal got out from the other side of the Volvo with much surer footing than everyone else, “I should have y’all do extra laps next practice.” She slammed the car door closed and rested her hands in her jacket pockets again. “There was severe emotional damage,” she did not seem as fussed as her words made it sound though.

Kuvira learned a couple of things after the impromptu car race. Asami certainly had the potential to be really wild despite her prissy look. Mako too could be reckless despite the giant stick up his ass. And Opal, well, she was still a little hard to read but Kuvira thought she secretly enjoyed all of that thrill and adrenaline.

\---

Korra and the brothers’ apartment was the prototypical college rental. There was a beige shag carpet, sliding doors leading to a tiny balcony, mis-matched Ikea furniture, and a second hand couch that clashed with everything else. Game consoles were piled underneath the TV. The kitchen smelled of coffee and take-out. 

The living room immediately felt small once the six of them entered. 

“Pabu?” called Bolin as he sprawled on the couch, still looking kind of shaken. A sleek shape sped by the foot of the couch with a squeak. Then it reappeared on the back and dropped onto the prostrate brother. 

“What was that?” Startled, Asami’s voice came out a bit small.

The creature nuzzled under Bolin’s chin and Kuvira realized it was a sable ferret. 

“This is Pabu!” Bolin indicated that Kuvira and Asami should pet the energetic furball. Mako headed to the kitchen to grab a glass of water for his brother. Meanwhile Opal headed straight to the speaker by the TV and connected her phone. Shura’s _White Light_ played in a soft volume. She took off her jacket and draped it over a full motorcycle helmet sitting on one of the barstools at the kitchen island. Kuvira had no doubt that she had spent a lot of time in this apartment based on how she navigated the space. 

After getting some scritches in Asami asked, “can I get the nickel tour?” Her eyes darted expectantly to Korra.

“Uh, sure. It is just somewhere to hang our hats. Nothing fancy.” Korra started walking and looked at Kuvira, who was not sure if she was asking for help or eyeing her to follow. Eventually she decided as she had not been to the apartment before, she might as well join the tour group.

“Well, kitchen, living room,” Korra quickly pointed at the obvious “Bolin’s Lego collection,” she gestured to the cabinet next to the TV that stored a Deathstar and a few other Star Wars sets.

She beckoned to them to follow her down the hall. “Bathroom is right here. If someone is in here, you can use the shared one in the boys’ Jack and Jack.” She pointed at the two doors down the hall and looked back at them, “you know, because they are not strictly Jack and Jill…”

 _That is not even a dad joke._ Kuvira rolled her eyes. “Yeah we get it.”

“Anyways... Just make sure you don’t mess with Mako’s hair products.” She leaned in and whispered “sometimes I like to turn a bottle upside down and frame Bolin for it.”

“We know it’s you!” came Bolin’s voice from the living room.

“And you’re banned from our rooms,” warned Mako as he stuck his head into the hallway. 

Korra made a face and raised her hands while backing away from the doors. “Okay, okay.”

She led them to the last door, on which taped a printout of The Man in Black from _The Princess Bride_ staring back at them with a sword in his hand. “This is me.”

Her room was much tidier than the common space, much to Kuvira’s surprise. The walls were painted blue and there were a few spartan pieces of furniture. A simple writing desk with a hutch, flanked by a bookshelf and her nightstand. A set of drawers were on the opposite wall near the bed. The walls were decorated with a couple of fencing posters and a hand drawn picture of Sorsha from _Willow_. A few figurines lined on the windowsill. The furniture was a rich birch that added warmth to the whole atmosphere. 

Asami followed Korra in, taking in the room curiously. Kuvira stopped by the door and leaned against the wall next to the closet, not wanting to encroach on their space further. None of the three said anything for a couple of seconds. Korra, feeling a little awkward standing in the middle of her own room, decided to sit on the bed.

Asami’s eyes lingered on a couple of medals and trophies that were displayed on the bookshelf. “You can’t expect me to believe this is all you got, three-weapon-wonder?”

Korra blushed again. “You should see my parents’ place. They kept everything.”

Asami moved on from the medals rather quickly and was skimming the books Korra owned. She brushed her fingertips across the spines of the books, reading the titles silently. Obviously taking her time and not minding the eyes on her at all. Soon her eyes dropped to the wooden animal figures sitting in a line on the shallow windowsill behind the desk.

“Quite a menagerie you got here.” She reached out her hand but stopped herself, “can I?”

She looked at Korra for permission, who was staring at the outstretched long pale fingers. 

“Huh?” Korra’s eyes snapped back at Asami’s face and blush creeped over her cheeks, “sure. Of course.”

Asami picked up the bear. She turned and leaned on the desk, merely a meter away from Korra. Her fingers grazed the wood carvings, feeling the imperfect chiseled lines. “Did you make these?”

“Uh, yeah.” Korra’s hand shot to the back of her neck. “I used to make them for the younger kids at my club back home.” Korra’s expression softened in nostalgia, “they only have trophies for first place, so I made these for second place.” She picked up a dog and traced her thumb over the shape, she chuckled lightly “But then they loved these so much they tried to place second instead. Because kids, you know?” Korra chuckled and looked up at Asami.

The look on Asami’s face could only be described as full of mirth. Kuvira suddenly felt like she was an interloper invading a private moment that was meant for Korra and Asami alone. She mumbled something about getting a drink and swiftly left the room.

Back in the living room, Mako and Bolin were arguing if they should watch an hour long sabre video on Youtube. “I will make sure your enthusiasm is known to Tenzin, Mako, but let’s watch something else, please” Opal said, casting her vote from the kitchen. Kuvira strolled over to the kitchen island where Opal was expertly mixing drinks. It was long enough after the practice that Kuvira could feel all the aches and pains of the days’ activities. It indeed was time for a drink. 

“Is this a self-serve kinda situation or are you playing bartender?” She grunted as softly as she could when scooting up to the bar stool.

Across the island, Opal’s eyes tracked Kuvira’s not-so-smooth movements. She threw a kitchen towel over her shoulder and leaned onto the bar.

“What’s your poison, pard’ner?” she said in a dramatic Texas drawl. Somehow she had kept a straight face. “You look like you need somethin’ stronger than a beer, though.” 

Kuvira managed a chuckle. “I don’t know, what you got laying around?” Opal considered for a second, then whipped out a copper mug from a cabinet. With a nonchalant attitude she grabbed some ice, poured a healthy amount of vodka, added some ginger ale and a slice of lime. Kuvira was amazed that her fingers still had any strength left to squeeze the lime after the blade drills earlier that day. 

“How do you even get through training like this?” Kuvira winced as she reached out her tired arm to grab the proffered mug. Opal responded by lifting her own mug. “Cheers,” the two said as the mugs came together with a very dull clunk. 

“Or is it just me?” Kuvira dreaded the subtext of her question. What if it was true? That only she felt this way because she was not strong enough.

“No. It was definitely a very strict practice today. I hope she will back down just a little. I can’t afford to have any of the foilists drop off the team.”

Opal leaned on the island again, “and to answer your question earlier, I look forward to the cold drink afterwards and to how many more asses I will be able to kick at the next tournament.” Despite the confidence in the statement, there was a slight hint of exhaustion in her tone and she took a long drink from her mug. Kuvira took a sip to try out the mixture. The sugary taste was a little cloying, but it felt nice to have the alcohol burn down her throat. 

The two watched the brothers fight for control of the remote and argue about what to watch. Pabu squeaked happily on the back of the couch. When the remote flew much too close to his perky ears, he sped to the safety of the kitchen. The ferret made his way over to Opal and crawled up her leg. She did not even bat an eye as he made himself comfortable on her shoulder. She walked around the island and sat down on a bar stool not far from Kuvira. 

After the burn of the vodka settled in Kuvira’s stomach, she asked, “so do you live with your aunt?”

“Yeah, above her garage.” Opal answered almost too quickly. Kuvira raised an eyebrow and fought the desire to wince. She looked at the captain, trying to read her face. Then their eyes met and Opal let out a chortle. “You should’ve seen your face.” She took another sip of her drink. “I don’t live with her,” she said in a softer tone. “Seeing her just about every other day is quite enough, don’t you think?” Her eyes drifted back to the TV. The boys had settled on an Olympic documentary.

Kuvira was agitated. She thought that she was good at reading people but she was having trouble pinning the team captain down. One second Opal came off as the Coach’s pet, and the next she was making short jokes treating Kuvira as if they were best friends. 

Kuvira had turned to face the direction of the boys and the TV. Out of the corner of her eye she could study Opal. The woman reached up with her free hand to pet Pabu. The ferret had his face close to hers and was using her hair as a wig. Kuvira knew she must be comfortable in the apartment because she exuded a different kind of calm from her attitude in the gym. This was just another Friday night hang out. 

Opal caught Kuvira looking and asked a question of her own. “What were you listening to earlier? Before practice.”

“Uh, a symphony orchestra.” Kuvira said not without pride but she did not want to go into detail. It was a throwback to her youth. Kuvira had always been jealous of the kids carting around instruments at school. It was too much of human nature to be attracted to things she knew she simply could not have. An interest in music became one of them. Naturally the moment Kuvira had gained an ounce of independence, she spent it on either listening to or buying music. It was a shelter she built for herself. An interest in classical music gave her a chance to divorce herself from kids her age and to become a snobby connoisseur - an image she always wanted for herself. She did not admit to anyone that she genuinely found the music both inspiring and romantic, and sometimes even brought tears to her eyes.

She had expected Opal to regard her with amusement at the choice of music. Instead the other woman nodded and said, “I can see that. You sorta have that… brassy quality.”

Kuvira frowned. “Are you calling me loud?”

“No. I am calling you deep.” There was a twinkle in her eyes.

Kuvira bit down a counterpoint involving the trumpet. She did not want to be that “as-a-matter-of-fact” smartass right now. 

“Do you play any instrument?” Opal added.

Kuvira shook her head, “no. Never. You?” 

“Well, does a bit of guitar count?” Opal took a sip of her drink and stole a glance at Kuvira, “I know, it’s a kind of a cliché.”

“Is it? I think playing any instrument is pretty cool.”

“Really?” Opal thinks for a second. “I think harmonica is kind of lame.”

“I suppose,” Kuvira’s mouth twisted to a subtle smile, “but they travel well and don’t take up much space.” 

“Yeah but useless when it comes to self-defense.”

“How do you defend yourself with your guitar?”

“I can think of a few ways.”

Kuvira felt emboldened to keep talking music. “Frankly, I expected you to play a woodwind or something.”

“Yeah? Like a flute or a bassoon?” Opal asked curiously.

“More like a clarinet.” _It matches your footwork. Light, airy, and smooth._ Kuvira of course did not say it out loud.

Before the conversation could continue Korra and Asami reappeared in the common room. The two were talking animatedly about their favorite Studio Ghibli films. Opal clearly knew what Korra enjoyed drinking because before they even reached the island she had a bottle and opener in her hand and passed it off to Korra.

“What would you like, Asami? Something from a bottle or something more sophisticated? And you are both wrong, _Kiki_ ’s the best.” Opal’s tone had not changed between her friendly banter with Kuvira and the drink question for Asami. 

“I’ll take the more sophisticated option.” While she waited for Opal to get a glass, Korra made her way to the larger of the couches and sat down next to Bolin. At some point Mako had moved to the loveseat with the remote firmly gripped in his hand. Attention turned back towards the TV and the documentary. 

Eventually Opal took up her perch on a stool and Asami took the only other free space which was next to Mako on the smaller couch. She sat with her legs crossed up against the arm with her drink resting on her knee.

“It would suck to get all the way to the Olympics and get knocked out in the first heat,” said Mako. The commentators were talking about a runner who managed to qualify at the last minute for the games, but who badly injured their ankle on the first hurdle. “Imagine all of that effort only to get an injury in the first few seconds of competing!” 

“At least they qualified. It means they had a good run up to even manage to get to the games. It isn’t like you are kicked out of the Olympic Village if you lose,” said Asami levelly. She took a sip of her Moscow Mule as they all contemplated the thought.

“I would hate to be a runner coming in second to a world record run if you were only a fraction of a second behind,” said Bolin. “It would suck to know that you also beat the previous world record and still only took second!”

“We all picked the right sport to avoid that problem then!” Korra was mostly through with her beer and fast approaching friendly drunk. She gave Bolin a playful shoulder punch.

“So Asami, where’d you learn to drive like that?” The documentary was focusing on more track and field and Mako’s attention was waning. “Did you train as a NASCAR driver or something?”

“Actually Dad sponsors a rally team and wanted me to learn how to drive defensively. I was about this tall when I drove for the first time.” She stretched her arm out to demonstrate exactly how little she was. “My feet could barely reach the pedals. ” Everyone looked at Asami nonplussed for a few moments. Korra’s eyes were as wide as Bolin’s. 

“I mean, whose dad doesn’t have pro-racecar drivers at their beck and call,” said Mako, breaking the mood.

“I think perhaps you are too cool to hang out with the likes of us.” Kuvira concluded.

“Well, I’ve been track side before, mind you it was drag-bike racing,” said Opal scanning the room, “but perhaps that makes me too cool as well?” Her eyes locked challengingly with Kuvira’s.

This piqued Asami’s interest and she asked “is that your Bonneville I saw outside then?” Kuvira was surprised at herself for not picking up that Opal rode a motorcycle. The sensible boots, and her jacket thrown over a helmet shaped object on the barstool next to her.

“Yeah, I inherited it from my brother. He messed with it a lot, so I am still not done upgrading her yet.”

“Did you install those forks? That suspension isn’t original if I am not mistaken…” They could have easily dived into a conversation about vehicles, but it was not to be. At the same time that Bolin stood up and stretched dramatically, Asami’s phone began to vibrate.

“Anyone need another drink?” Bolin headed to the kitchen. Asami looked at her phone then glanced at the gathered company. She seemed to consider answering the call, but instead silenced it.

“You are not leaving a date high and dry, are you?” Kuvira wondered aloud. Korra shot her a look that was somewhere between angry that Kuriva would allude to something so personal and desperately wanting to know herself. 

“Uh, no. Decidedly single. Don’t have time for it with my degree and now fencing. What about the rest of you guys? Dating anyone?” You could hear the crickets outside it was so quiet for a few heartbeats.

“Well, Korra went out on like two dates with Mako,” said Opal outing them.

“Why does everyone…” grumbled Korra. She cleared her throat and stated, “we all know that Mako’s true loves are fencing and justice, against which I didn’t stand a chance. Besides, it was weird seeing someone on the team,” . 

Mako protested from the opposite couch. “I thought it was because you were always so busy off at tournaments!” 

“And that is why we would never work out.” Korra mumbled against her empty beer bottle.

“You guys are better off as apartment mates anyways,” injected Bolin trying to keep both Korra and his brother from prolonging the discussion.

“Well it isn’t like you and Opal managed to have that date that got stalled for months now,” injected Mako. Both Asami and Kuvira looked between the two. It was not a wholly unlikely match but highly unusual that a simple date had not actually occurred.

“Dating on a team is hard. Just look how Tenzin and Aunt Lin behave around each other and they went out years before I was born.” Everyone turned to look at Opal. Apparently this was fresh information to even the veterans of the team. It was a perfect distraction from getting into why Opal and Bolin had not actually dated.

“I’m sorry, can you run that by me again? I think you said that Lin had been out on a date,” exclaimed Bolin.

“And with Tenzin, of all people,” added Mako.

“Uh, yeah, they went out for a little while. Apparently Tenzin decided that Lin wasn’t ambitious enough or something.” 

“I am so confused right now,” said Korra shaking her head. “Didn’t Lin go to the Olympics? She was the top women’s foil fencer in the world for like three years running! Her nickname is the Steel Bitch because she is hard as nails, unforgiving and cold!” 

“Amazing how someone dumping you and telling you that you aren’t ambitious enough can do wonders for your focus.” She winked. “ And please, never EVER use that name in front of her, unless you want to do a hundred burpees.” Opal looked as though she had been subjected to the punishment more than once.

\---

“Does she have a name?” Asami nodded to the cafe racer glowing in the dim orange sodium vapor of the apartment complex parking. She, Kuvira and Opal finally left the apartment after another hour of hanging out. The bike had vintage styling and in the light Kuvira could make out a two tone gas tank, but not many other details. 

“Yeah, Juicy.”

“What kind of name is that?” Asami giggled.

“It’s ‘cuz of the leak.” Opal gestured to the dark stain under the bike.

“Is that… normal?” Kuvira’s thick brows furrowed.

“Oh, nothing is broken. It’s just a gasket that is a pain to replace since it is in the verti-”

“-Veritical engine design,” Asami finished for her. “I can’t wait to see it in daylight. We should schedule a ride sometime. I’ll bring my Zero,” Asami’s eyes glinted with nerdy excitement.

“The Zero is that all electric one, isn’t it? I’ve been wanting to try it out!”

“Maybe we can trade rides!”

“Absolutely.” 

Kuvira walked along with them in silence. She was jealous that everyone seemed to have more in common with each other than she did. Now Asami and Opal were planning on cruising together. Was she ever going to feel more like she fit in with the team? 

Opal put her helmet down on the long seat and turned back to Kuvira and Asami. “Thanks for joining us tonight,” she said, reaching out for a hug from Asami first. It was a quick comfortable hug. She turned towards Kuvira, but before she said anything…

“I’m not much of a hugger.”

“We will have to work on that, and on your harmonica skills, Captain’s order,” said Opal with a smirk as she put on her gloves. “With Bolin on the team, you won’t be able to dodge hugging for long. I’ll let it slide this time.” She turned around and in one fluid movement picked up her helmet and placed it on her head. “See you later ladies!” The engine spluttered into life and she pulled away into the darkened evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In regards to everyone's Ghibli preference:  
> Sabrepunk: Asami of course loves _Howl’s_ , Kuvira is more of a _Nausicaa_ Fan, and Korra is practically _Princess Mononoke_.  
> ItchyOuchyZ thinks she needs to further inspect all of the Ghibli films again to be on board with Sabrepunk's opinion.
> 
> ItchyOuchyZ: Also we are well aware that Opal is pretty ooc in this universe. Personally I think there is a lot to explore when she grew up as a sheltered non-bender in a family like hers (in the same sense that the other non-bender Baatar Junior is easily radicalized). But that's beside the point... If it helps, I ask you to look at [this photo](https://itchyouchyz.tumblr.com/private/628273098250158081/tumblr_12iJdoPt3a1RnZBHY) of Maggie Cheung when she was young and channel some of that energy...  
> 


	8. Advancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which silence is broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opalvira is finally going somewhere, or is it?
> 
>   
> Thanks to Socaliifrankster for beta our work!
> 
> Check out the Maggie Cheung inspired art inked by me, ItchyOuchyZ.

On Wednesdays Kuvira only had classes until an hour before practice. She always made sure she had some snacks with her so she would not starve or be late. Most often she could be found munching on a meager granola bar while reading the news on her phone, comfortably ensconced in the cabin of her truck. Ten or fifteen minutes before practice she would get out of the truck and walk towards the gym. Sometimes she did think it was very “old lady” of her to behave that way. 

Instead of socializing with friends or classmates, she chose to keep her work and practice high priority. The year before she had few friends and she realized how quickly Korra had become the top of her list. They would hang out in the climbing gym occasionally, working out or just chilling. In spite of Kuvira’s tendency to isolate it was refreshing to have some alone time after class and before practice.

On that particular Friday it was drizzling a little bit. From her perch in the truck she watched how the cold-white LED street lamps back lit the dashing lines of rain drops, making little misty halos. The rain-washed shrubs were an offensive green. The cold sandwich tasted even more bland in her mouth.

It was the last practice of the week, Kuvira pushed open the gym door at 19min before practice, slightly earlier than usual. She had been bored and a little frustrated sitting in the truck. None of her usual tunes were bringing her out of the funk the drizzle had brought. 

As she entered the foyer Opal was shedding her backpack. She heard Kuvira’s footfalls and looked back at Kuvira in surprise. The captain’s windbreaker was shiny with moisture and her long bangs hung damply too. She must have just walked in from the rain. Opal’s face quickly turned into that of amusement as she looked down at her smartwatch and said “pushing it, huh?”

Just like the first practice, Opal let Kuvira get ready after asking her help to set up. It was going to be a more relaxed warmup day, with a game of ultimate frisbee instead of fencing footwork. Kuvira agreed since she was not about to go back to sitting alone in her truck. 

She got changed quickly and popped her earbuds in on her way out of the women’s locker room. When she made it to the doorway of the main hall, Opal was using a jump rope. The team captain was starting slow and ramping up her speed. Kuvira watched quietly for a moment just outside the door. Pausing her music, she listened instead to the rapid thumping of the rope hitting the floor. As Opal kept going, she transitioned into double-unders and sped up the flicks of her wrist. It was not long before she was huffing a bit and her cheeks turned red. Then finally she slowed down to a stop and rolled up the rope. The routine took a few minutes, but she had not missed or tripped the entire time. Kuvira was duly impressed but felt a little like a creeper so she loudly entered the main hall, humming tunelessly as though she had turned her music back on.

\---

After the damp Friday, Kuvira arrived at the next week of practices exactly on the twenty minute mark and saw that Opal was already working on her laptop or reading some book. There seemed to be no reason for her to be at the gym that early. She would just check her watch and give Kuvira that knowing smile. _What was with that?_ Kuvira did not like to be mocked. They settled into a habit, Opal would let her change first and she would help set up for the day’s practice with her earbuds in. Occasionally, Opal would connect her phone to the speaker and play some music as well. They only exchanged a few words.

The next week, just to push her luck, Kuvira walked into the gym twenty-five minutes before practice as Opal was just switching on the hall’s lights. _Okay, is this some sort of game of who can come in the earliest?_ Kuvira innerly cursed how stupid it sounded but could not help but wonder if it was actually the case, like the push and pull on the strip was not enough.

To test her theory, for the next week, she would carefully push her arrival time a bit earlier every practice. Not extreme but just a few minutes. Every time she was just one step behind the team captain. The door was always unlocked and the captain was just settling in. She even opted for the closest parking structure instead of her preferred one that was a little further out of the way, and every time she would see Opal’s leaky bike parked at the motorcycle stall, oil still dripping. Kuvira was sure if she touched the engine compartment it would still be hot.

\---

A few days later Kuvira was bending over a library printer. She had accidentally sent her file to the furthest corner of the library from where she had set up her computer. It sat in a quiet little used corner of the music section. Morning light streamed through a row of nearby windows. 

Even though it was still early in the school year, Kuvira was already feeling a little behind with her work. Practices sucked a great deal of time out of her schedule and combined with how EARLY she had been getting to fencing the outcome was not to her liking.

She frowned as the papers spitting out of the printer collated in the wrong order. The printer was almost an antique making a whirring sound that indicated a few of the feeder teeth were broken. It was an irritatingly loud noise in an otherwise quiet space. As she was furiously deciding how she should start organizing the pages as they were being printed out, she felt a book corner check her back. She turned too slowly to see no more than a blur disappear behind a shelf to her right.

The printer gave one final labored whir-click-click and spat out the last piece of paper. Kuvira snatched her printout and marched down an aisle. Biographies of great musicians were on one side and histories of music from around the world were on the other. The shelves were the kind without backs, letting more natural light into more spaces of the library. From the corner of her eye she caught someone keeping pace with her a few aisles over, partially cutting off the rays of sunlight coming in through the tall windows intermittently. Curiously Kuvira slowed down and the mysterious person slowed down as well. Kuvira searched her mind. _Not Korra, this quiet playfulness is not her style._ The library was unnaturally quiet and Kuvira felt loud just walking down it’s hushed corridors. She quickened her pace again.

When she reached the next gap in the aisle, Opal’s smirking face emerged from behind the bookshelf. In the captain’s hands were a few books, which must be what she had used to prod Kuvira earlier. Instead of saying hi, Opal just grinned and walked backwards to the study area. Kuvira parted her way to the small bank of printers organized with three hole punches and staplers for wide projects. The hammering of her stapling the pages seemed to echo too loudly against the musty leather bound books of the law section. 

When she returned to the study area, Kuvira saw Opal working on a couch across from the table where she had abandoned her laptop earlier. The two did not make further eye contact. Just as Kuvira sat back down at her computer to work a message popped up.

Opal: “ _Did you get here today @5am?”_

Kuvira squinted at the message and looked up at her teammate whose eyes were steadily focused on her screen. The faintest smirk played at the corner of her mouth.

Kuvira’s fingers hover over the keyboard for a moment and then she replied: 

_“Yes. The sunrise was so gorgeous you wouldn’t believe it.”_

She checked Opal again. Her eyes were still glued to the screen, but she visibly smiled in response.

Kuvira started to flip through her printouts just as another message popped up on the screen.

Opal: _“The couch is more comfortable”_ _  
_ Opal: _“Even for a stiff like you.”_

With a scowl she looked over to see Opal already removing her backpack from the couch next to her. Kuvira was very much not used to people actively demanding her company. A moment later she gathered her stuff and moved to be next to the team captain anyways. Yet again, Opal was still not looking at her, eyes glued to the screen as if completely absorbed in her work. Focus forward Opal stretched her legs and rested them on the small round table in front of them, getting comfortable. 

Things were still quiet in their corner of the floor. Kuvira pulled out her phone and plugged in her earbuds again. _Piano Concerto in D Minor_ by Mozart resumed from where she had left off. She closed her eyes for a moment settling into the couch and taking in the smells of the library. The minor beginnings of mildew and ink were conflated with air freshener. A vague sense of vanilla reached her nostrils as well. 

Calmer and ready to work on her ten page paper, she opened her eyes and picked up her newly bound and collated research material.

Opal: _“Welcome to the jock corner.”_

_Unbelievable._

Kuvira turned to Opal and stared at her until the slight woman finally turned to look at her. Kuvira mouthed, “ _stop”_ emphatically _._ Opal beamed in victory and reached over deftly plucking the earbud from Kuvira’s nearest ear. Before Kuvira could put down her paper and try to jostle for the earbud back, Opal placed it in her ear and turned her attention back to her laptop. Slightly defeated, Kuvira took up her paper again and finally got to work.

Just like that they worked side by side silently for a few peaceful hours. 

When Kuvira’s paper was well underway and her playlist had progressed from the classic era to the romantic era, a message popped up at the corner of her screen breaking the comfortable silence.

Opal: _“I’m having lunch with Korra and Jinora at the Squeaky Cabbage. Wanna join?”_

\---

Twenty minutes later carrying trays laden with food, the duo found their friends at a table on the balcony of the cafeteria. Korra and Asami were sitting side by side facing the cafeteria. 

“Hey, Asami!” Opal had quickly put down her tray across from them and leaned down for a hug before sitting down behind her food. It seemed like they had found time to become friends. “I didn’t know you would be joining us for lunch, too!”

“Yeah, I bumped into Korra when I was done with my lab.”

Kuvira settled down at the end of the table next to Korra and eyed her friend suspiciously. She was mentally conjuring the campus map. If she was not mistaken, the engineering classes were held nowhere near Korra’s usual lecture halls. Kuvira surreptitiously flicked Korra’s shoulder and mouthed the word “ _stalker”._ Korra narrowed her eyes and gave her the middle finger. She then quickly looked to see if Opal and Asami caught their little interaction. Luckily the other two were busy catching up on how classes were progressing. 

“What’s taking Jinora so long? I’m starving.” Korra looked at her lunch tray longingly.

“You’re always starving.” Kuvira was used to Korra’s endless appetite outside of the gym by now.

“Here, have a clementine.” Opal tossed Korra the offered fruit. Korra caught it delightly and started to peel it very carefully using a plastic knife. It seemed a bit pedantic to use a knife on such an easily shucked skin, but she was careful to make sure the peel pieces were still connected. Then Korra pulled the sections out without damaging the peel. Asami was transfixed as she watched Korra reform the pieces of the clementine’s skin into the shape of a hollow lantern. Just as Korra was about to finish her creation, a filing box slammed onto the table collapsing her effort. Korra’s shoulders sagged in defeat.

“There you are,” Opal said in greeting to the box bringer. Jinora took her tray from off of the top of the box and slid down onto the bench next to Opal. She looked frazzled.

“Everything alright?” Opal cleared some space for her on the table and slid over so Jinora could sit more comfortably.

“Everything is TERRIBLE.” Jinora briefly buried her face in her palms before quickly straightening and grabbing a handful of colorful flyers from the box. She passed them to Opal who took one and passed the rest around the group. Soon the whole table was reading the flyer.

Once Kuvira got over the shock of the intense fuchsia of the paper, she read the copy. The header of the flyer proclaimed “RCU Queer Alliance” in an Art Deco font. A slew of dingbats broke up the copy. The flyer explained the Alliance purpose and goals. The last section was in another vintage font that included the day, time and meeting hall. The final line read “Bring your thinking caps!” It was not a triumph of graphic design but it got the point across. The zine-like quality made Kuvira suspect that Jinora had designed the layout with Word.

“Looks great! What’s the problem?” Opal asked.

“Well, the problem is that the Alumni Association took our meeting space at D200,” Jinora pointed at the meeting time and location on the flyer. “Because they need to discuss ‘advancement and outreach’,” she air-quoted. “So now I not only have to find a new place, but also to reprint these flyers, a week before the actual meeting!”

“That sucks. I’m sorry.” Korra offered her sympathy. 

"How about the gym?" Opal suggested. “No team meets that day and I’m sure you can borrow some chairs from the campus facility. I’ll help if you need it.”

Jinora’s eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea! I’ll ask Dad.” She whipped out of her phone and typed quickly.

“Of course. Happy to help.”

“So what’s on the meeting agenda?” Asami asked once Jinora put her phone away and finally made an attempt on her food.

“You know, gender neutral bathroom, pronouns… Same thing as last year really. Because apparently the school didn’t care one bit about our advocacy.” Jinora rolled her eyes. “The fact that my dad didn’t let everyone introduce themselves with their preferred pronouns was just…”

“I’m sure he just forgot.” Korra defended Tenzin.

Jinora shot a glare at Korra, “sure he did.”

“What are we saying here? Coach is… transphobic?” Kuvira was having a hard time imagining Tenzin being a bigot.

“He’s not. He’s just…” Jinora searched for words. “Having problems with me doing all these things. Last time I checked the excuse was that I was too young to be involved in politics.” She threw her hands, “I didn’t know there was an age limit for activism! He just automatically thinks that trying to fight for changes is a losing battle and didn’t want me to be part of it, which is stupid because how could I not do something when the world they handed us was such a hot mess already!” 

Kuvira could not help being affected by the young fencer’s passion. It had been a long time since she had felt moved enough to feel the need to act.

“Well, my name is Opal. I prefer she/her or they/them and I am on your side. Whenever you need me.” Opal put her hand on Jinora’s shoulder. They shared a smile. Jinora looked instantly more relaxed.

“So what’s the theme of this year’s Drag Ball?” Korra flipped to the back of the flyer in search for more information and asked with a mouthful of noodles.

“It’s gonna be retro of some kind. We haven’t decided yet. You can always come to the meeting and contribute your opinion.” Jinora lured with a lighter tone.

Korra gave her two thumbs up. She swallowed the noodles, “I was so bummed I had to miss it last year for a grand prix in Prague. Mako and Bolin told me everyone had a blast.”

“What’s a Drag Ball? I was in Japan last year.” Asami asked the question that Kuvira was thinking. It must have been hell of an event for Korra to be wistful about having to be at a beautiful city like Prague.

“It’s what it sounds like. Everyone comes in drag and just be free.”

“That’s it? We just all go in suit-n-tie and dance?”

“Well, yeah but it’s not that simple. Do not underestimate the power of breaking out of the norms.

“Also, it’s not necessarily dressing opposite to the gender you identify with, because we all know that gender is a construct, anyways,” Jinora inhaled deeply, “It’s about stepping out of your comfort zone.”

It all sounded a bit ethereal to Kuvira. So it seemed everyone else at the table was waiting for further explanation as well.

Jinora continued, “for example, Korra dresses butch all the time.” Korra seemed to want to say something but couldn’t due to her mouth once again stuffed with food. “Even though she identifies as female, it doesn’t mean she has to dress in a tuxedo for Drag Ball, because that wouldn’t be as powerful a gesture for her if she went in a lacey ball gown.”

“So you are saying if we look at our gender and sexuality truly as a spectrum, or rather, a color disk or a color sphere,” Asami painted a circle in the air with her chopsticks. “Drag Ball can be a space where we ignore the labels and just go for the _polar opposite_ from what we are used to but still be ourselves?”

“Exactly!” Jinora was happy that she got through to someone.

Kuvira sank into deep thoughts. On self-reflection she dressed very masculine and straight-cut all the time without considering the connotations behind it. It was not that she thought she would look bad in dresses, but she felt “beautiful” always equated to feeling vulnerable. And she certainly did not like feeling that way.

Asami looked down at the box Jinora brought. “Are you going to throw out these too?” She picked up a couple of pride flag stickers.

“No. But I should probably get more. Kai works at the print shop this semester and said he could get more.”

“Can I keep one?” Asami asked.

“Yeah, of course. They’re here to be disseminated.”

“Thank you! I’ve been wanting to decorate my fencing case. And the rainbow goes with any color because it has all the colors.”

“Help yourself! There are alliance Bison, too.”

“Really?!” Korra was visibly excited. Asami dove into the box once again and dug out a couple of stickers depicting the mascot bison wearing a pride flag cape.

“Oh my gosh how cute!” Korra’s eyes sparkled, snatching one out of Asami’s hand, “you didn’t have those last year.” Asami gave one each of the bison stickers to Kuvira and Opal as well.

“I’m going to put this on my laptop.” said Opal looking at the sticker.

“Thanks.” Kuvira took the sticker but had no idea where she would stick it to, so she tucked it into her wallet safely.

Asami on the other hand was sticking it on the interior of her leather wallet/phone case so she would see it every time she accessed her phone or pulled out a card.

Jinora’s phone buzzed. She looked down at it quickly, “great, Mom said Dad had a meeting till 1pm. Maybe he’s still on campus. Gotta go!” She stood up, “anyone wants my seaweed salad?” She looked at Korra knowingly, who silently collected the barely touched plate of seaweed salad into her tray.

Jinora swept up the box and gathered her bag, “see you guys tomorrow at practice!”

She sped off leaving the rest of the women to their lunch.

“So she’s the head of the Queer Aliance?” Kuvira asked with a slight amount of puzzlement.

“And also dating a boy? I know what you are thinking,” Opal said.

“Hey, you said it. I don’t have a problem with that. She could be bi or pansexual. As Asami said, it’s a spectrum. Dating a boy doesn't mean she's not queer,” Kuvira said defensively. “I can see people who don’t know her have a problem with it, but honestly, I’d rather it be someone who cares,” she finished a little less forcefully.

“Good, you passed the test.” Korra put down her chopsticks. The seaweed salad was gone and her plates squeaky clean. “I’m getting a food coma,” she said suppressing a burp, “Coffee or tea?” she finger-gunned at Kuvira and Opal.

“You buying?” Opal asked suspiciously.

“Of course not. Gimme your card.”

Opal sighed and rolled her eyes while still digging out her card compliantly and handing it over to Korra. “Chai latte, hot,” she commanded.

“You got it.” Korra turned to Asami.

“Flat white, please. With soy milk.” Asami was digging for her own card from her back pocket, but Korra stopped her. 

“Don’t worry about it. Opal is buying,” she said with a big crooked grin.

“Hey!” Opal threw a piece of string cheese wrapper at Korra.

Korra dodged and looked at Kuvira, “and you?”

“I’ll come with you.” Kuvira stood up.

The two of them walked to the coffee stop adjacent to the cafe. On their way, Korra took out her phone and started texting someone, who was apparently writing back to her immediately.

“Who are you texting?”

“No one.” Korra tried to lie but her eyes darted back to their table. Asami was just putting her phone back down.

“Seriously? She’s right there.”

“What?” Korra held Kuvira’s interrogating stare.

“Just ask her out already!”

“How do you know I haven’t?”

Kuvira gave her a sideways look full of disdain.

Korra gave in, “okay, fine, I haven’t.” 

They stood in line. Korra blushed, “I don’t even know if she’s into girls!”

“What the hell?! You _just_ saw her putting a pride sticker on her phone case!”

“That doesn’t mean anything! She could just be an ally.”

“Yeah, right. And she hasn’t been flirting with you since you guys met, or texting you when you were twenty yards away,” she tailed off. Her own words plucked a nerve. Kuvira realized that Opal was doing the same thing earlier. _Was she… flirting?_ Kuvira’s eyes went back to the table and lingered on the team captain this time.

When the pair got to the front of the line Korra did not actually execute her ploy. She fished out her campus card and paid for her and Asami’s drinks. Just as she was about to order with Opal’s card Kuvira stopped her “I’ll get it.” Kuvira then ordered Opal’s drink and a cold brew for herself.

Kuvira put the steaming chai in front of Opal.

“We didn’t end up using your card,” Korra said, slipping Opal’s card down the back of her shirt collar. “You owe Kuvira 3 bucks.”

“Jerk.” Opal reached behind her back under her shirt to fish her card out. She turned to Kuvira in the contorted position, “thanks. I’ll buy you a drink some other time.”

Kuvira could not respond, she was too busy over-thinking the statement. _Some other time?_

“You okay?” Opal asked, looking a bit concerned.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Kuvira bit back.

Opal finally secured her card back in her wallet and grabbed her drink. She inhaled the aroma of the tea and let out a satisfied sigh. 

Kuvira sipped her cold brew, decidedly not looking at Opal. Instead she looked across the table at Korra and Asami. They were already giggling over some memes. Korra was certainly wearing her feelings on her sleeve. _Well, other people’s problems are always easier than your own_.

“Asami, how did you know you like girls? Or do you?” The words just tumbled out of her mouth but she certainly enjoyed the horror and shock on Korra’s face nonetheless.

“Oh,” Asami looked completely un-disturbed by the question. “I went to an all-girl boarding school.” She flipped her curls behind her shoulder at the end of the sentence.

Kuvira raised an eyebrow not so subtly at Korra. _See?_

Opal chuckled. “I know what that’s like. I mean I didn’t go to an all-girl school but I’ll say boarding school of any kind is the perfect experimental ground.”

“What about you, Korra? How long have you known?” Asami looked at Korra. Again not judging but just curious.

“Well, I, uh. Huh,” Korra scratched her head and laughed awkwardly. “I really wanted to say Mako was responsible but I think that’s probably, actually totally unfair.”

“Yeah, duh. You were obsessed with Ellen Page after discovering _Whip-It_ way before your thing with Mako. ” Opal yet again outed her friend casually as if she had no filter. 

“And you didn’t tell me and just watched the ship sink?”

“Girl, your ship with Mako never sailed. I just didn’t have the heart to point it out.” Opal looked up from what she was doing and rolled her eyes at Korra. She was checking layouts for a good spot to put the bison sticker on her laptop.

“Yeah, I’m pretty shitty with relationships honestly.” Korra said under her breath, eyes darting around.

Guilt struck Kuvira. She did not mean to embarrass or push Korra this hard. However unreasonable her excuses seemed, she probably had a lot of fear to deal with despite the usual confident façade.

“There is better.” Kuvira pointed at an empty spot at the corner of Opal’s laptop, pulling away everyone’s attention.

“Yeah?” Opal peeled away the backing and stuck the proud little bison calf on the said spot. It looked like it was about to take off and kick some serious ass.

Opal crunched up the sticker backing and tossed it in her tray. She stood up and gathered her stuff before giving Asami a sloppy side hug and rustled Korra’s hair affectionately.

“Ladies it’s been a pleasure but I gotta go to class. See y’all soon.” She looked at Kuvira and wiggled her eyebrows, “some earlier than others.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's ignore the fact that two rich girls got free drinks from two (semi-)broke girls.
> 
> I had a total blast writing this chapter (up there with chapter 3 as my favs) but it's apparently not Sabrepunk's favorite - it's okay we're allowed to have our differences... Hope you guys enjoy it!  
> \--- ItchyouchyZ
> 
> Anyways, please comment away!


	9. Attack in Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which several distinct games are won and lost from Chinese Checkers to the (G)love Game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously at this point I should know that the chapter total has become extremely inaccurate because I had broken down the originally planned one chapter into something like two and a half (because flirting. I blame flirting). And I have a feeling it will (totally) happen again.
> 
> Check out once again the original super cute fanart done by Sabrepunk.

On Wednesday, Kuvira wolfed down her cold burrito as she maneuvered her truck into the parking structure. Forty five minutes was a big margin and there was no sign of Opal’s bike. She smirked, but Kuvira would not assume victory before it was absolutely verified. She hopped out of the truck and speed walked as calmly as she could to the gym. She pushed on the gym door meeting resistance. She even beat the security who was supposed to unlock the door.

A loud streak of putt putt putt came into her earshot. 

“You’re unbelievable, do you know that?”

Kuvira whipped around to see Opal on her bike putting one foot down on the curb to support her bike, helmet visor lifted. She crossed her arms across the leather clad chest.

“I _could_ say the same about you.” It took two to tango, fence, play chess, or whatever their arrival game was called. Kuvira was not going to pretend that she did not realize the captain was also complacent in this ridiculous competition. Because they both guessed each other’s move correctly, and landed them here a vast forty two minutes before practice. 

“Tell me, what better things would you be doing with forty minutes of your life?”

\---

“Thank you!” Opal said sweetly to the grumpy campus security guard who opened the gym for them. Kuvira trailed after Opal into the empty building. Opal followed her usual routine, flicking on the lights and shrugging off her backpack by the team locker door. Instead of using her key on the door, she strode off in the direction of the offices. After sifting through the keys, she unlocked the one that led to the small room Asami used as the armory. Pushing the rolling chair aside, Opal crouched down in front of the workbench and searched for something in the drawers underneath.

Kuvira hovered outside unsure if she should step into the tiny office. It was a tight enough space that would certainly put an uncomfortably short distance between them. Kuvira felt nervous all of a sudden, unsure of what to do. 

Opal soon found what she was searching for, in one hand she held a flat cardboard box and in the other a wooden case. She looked at Kuvira expectantly and asked “pick your form of execution, chess or chinese checkers?”

Kuvira reached out and took the beat up looking cardboard box.

“Oh, you are about to be crushed,” said Opal with a wicked smile.

“Is it a prerequisite to be extremely competitive to be on this team?” Thinking of their ridiculous game of arrive-early-at-practice and then the board game.

“Well yes, and don’t even, you fit right in.” Opal put the wood box away and rolled the armory chair to a table in the foyer. Kuvira sat down at a chair already there and opened the flimsy box. Inside was an antiqued inlay set of Chinese Checkers. She slid open the drawer to reveal the colorful glass marbles inside.

“Go ahead,” said Opal, indicating that Kuvira could choose her color first. The captain was settling comfortably into the old rolling office chair. She had pulled out her phone and was turning on a cube bluetooth speaker on the table.

Kuvira picked the green marbles without a second thought. She gathered them in her palm as “ _Fireworks_ ” by First Aid Kits started playing softly on the speaker.

Seeing the green marbles in Kuvira’s hand, Opal scrunched down the corners of her mouth, big green eyes glinting darkly. Her hand hovered unsure over the tray. It was clear she was having a hard time deciding between the red and yellow marbles.

“Stole your lucky color, huh?” Kuvira very obviously rolled a green marble between her thumb and index finger. “Matches your eyes, I can see why you like this set.”

“No matter. I don't need luck to squash you in this game. A win is a win.” Opal finally settled on the red marbles.

They started off slowly, intently focused on the gaming. Their desire to win still in overdrive. 

“So is this nature or nurture that gave you this extreme case of competitiveness?”

“Hmmm… I would probably contribute this to my nasty case of middle child syndrome,” Opal triumphantly clacked a marble across the board in a series of hops.

“How many siblings exactly do you have?”

“Four brothers.” Opal rested her chin on her folded hands. “Two older and two younger.”

“Wow. Do they fence too?”

Opal sighed. “Yes. It’s a Beifong family tradition. They were all competitive fencers at some point actually. The default is that everyone was just expected to fence, we weren’t really given an option. Mom was really close to making it to the Olympics too, not just Aunt Lin. She wanted to live vicariously through us since we were old enough to pick up weapons.”

Unwanted resentment rose in Kuvira. It did not take a wild imagination to guess what kind of family Opal was born into that could support five young fencers when Kuvira’s foster parents could not even support just one. 

“That must have been…” She looked up at Opal and to her surprise, she looked kind of sad. Kuvira swallowed her words. She actually could not really imagine what that would have been like, and she did not really understand why Opal would be sad. Uncomfortable, she played with her car keys, mindlessly dragging the pad of her finger across the dents and grooves. 

“Not very fun. Yeah.” Opal picked up a marble and hopped over two of Kuvira’s and made it to the green triangle. “We had practices every day growing up. I was always covered in bruises. One time a substitute teacher thought I was being abused and called child protective services.” She chuckled bitterly. “In all honesty I was the worst of my siblings as far as fencing goes. I still hold like a 1-26 record or something ridiculous to Huan. And my younger brothers could whip my ass since they were ten.” 

“How many of your brothers still fence?”

“I’m the last one of my generation that still does, which is really ironic.” 

A few marbles clacked across the board. “My oldest brother, Baatar decided pretty early on that he did not want to keep fencing and quit sports altogether. He was the first one so my mom was okay with it. Then Huan kind of did the same thing but went with fine art instead. He occasionally uses his fencing gear for cosplay at ComicCons, though.

“My mom became more paranoid after that. My younger brothers, Wing and Wei, are twins. They were fencing all the way up until high school but then felt like football was more their thing so they quit as well. In the end, it was just me playing with swords.”

“I shudder to think how good they must have been if you were considered the black sheep.” Kuvira double checked the board to see if she really did want to execute the next series of jumps.

“Then you understand how heartbroken my mom was when the twins quit.” 

Kuvira looked at Opal for a long second. 

“Are you afraid of quitting because of your mom? If you hate it so much…”

“I don’t… I don’t hate fencing.” Opal was twisting a marble in its hole. “Not anymore. I resisted for a long time because I was told I wasn’t fast enough, talented enough, or smart enough. Well, according to my _mother_. But staying in it, sort of gave me… breathing room. If that makes sense. I was never her favorite, really, but now she actually cares where I place at tournaments and stuff. It's totally a change of scenery.

“It’s funny really, she thought she was going to raise a squad of winning fencers and in the end all the ones with potential quit and the one who she never had any expectations stayed. So it’s funny to see how she was struggling with expectations…” Opal let out a breathy laugh and wrapped her arms around her chest, sort of bracing herself. “Some days she would be completely disappointed when I placed second at a regional, and other days she would congratulate me if I managed to reach the quarter final. Just because she was so afraid I was going to give up like my siblings.”

Kuvira was trying to read Opal’s expression. After a beat, “I am sure if you really want to give up competing eventually, no one can stop you. It wouldn’t be fair if your brothers get to do what they want to do but you can’t.”

“No… This… this is what I want.” For the first time since they met, Kuvira saw something, like fear in the team captain’s eyes. “Besides, training here helps. I can actually enjoy the sport without all those unhealthy things attached to it. My aunt… she’s something but she is not my mom. I didn’t mean in terms of being strict. There was just so much history, things my mom had said to me. It’s hard to take back.”

Kuvira was quiet for a while. “When we first met, I thought you had everything. Well you did, you do.” 

Opal eyed her curiously. 

Kuvira explained, “the coaches like you and teammates adore you. You were born in a fencing family, everyone has supported you.” She compulsively twisted her marbles on the board so the stripes lined up at the same angle. 

“I had none of that,” she continued wistfully. “It was always a subtractive game. if I stepped out of line or lost my temper, something would be taken away from me. Then I found fencing. It simultaneously solved many of my problems but also gave the people around me the biggest leverage. I had no one cheering me on. Everyone was holding their breath, waiting for me to fail so they could take the most precious thing away from me.” Kuvira's knuckles were white from being tightly wrapped around her keys. 

“And in the end, they did just that.” When she finished speaking she looked up and immediately realized she had said too much. She looked away searching for a way to get out of this conversation.

“Is that why you are such a control freak? So people won’t have anything to hold against you?” 

“Hmm, yeah.” Kuvira admitted. “One good thing that came out of my upbringing. Wouldn’t you say?” The corner of her mouth quirked up ever so slightly. 

“Besides the oozing bitterness? Sure,” Opal gestured broadly with one hand.

Kuvira put her keys down on the table next to the board. She cracked her knuckles and unclenched her hand to help with regaining circulation.

There was a silence while they each took a few moves on the board. Opal broke it by asking “are you still angry?”

Kuvira considered her next move as her hand hovered over the board. 

“Yes.” She did a lackluster one step move.

“For a long time, all I wanted was to quit,” Opal said flatly.

“For a long time, all I wanted was to fence,” Kuvira responded. 

“And here we are.” Opal moved the last red marble into the green triangle. “And I win.” 

Instead of the look of winning glee she had expected to see on Opal’s face when Kuvira looked up, she was met with something else.

Opal was just opening her mouth to say something when they heard “Jinora, stop!”

The tension broke and the two snapped their attention to the double doors behind them. 

Jinora had burst through the doors and fumed her way to the women’s locker room. Her father was a few steps behind pleading for her to listen, his unzipped red warmup jacket flapping behind him. Tenzin came to a halt at the threshold and sighed, pinching his forehead.

“Hey, Coach.” Opal stood up to greet him. “Everything ok?” 

Tenzin turned, surprised to have been observed. “Yeah. Yes, it’s fine. Here,” He handed her a piece of paper. “The updated schedule. I added a practice.” Then he walked to his office and sat down at his desk.

Opal eyed the scheduled and understanding dawned on her face. She made a face and showed Kuvira what she was reading. Tenzin just happened to add an unusual Saturday practice on the day Jinora had been planning to have the Queer Alliance meeting.

\---

Like most conditioning sessions ahead of drills, students were dressed in workout gear. It was no surprise that Jinora was on a tear during the team warmup. Paired with a rainbow headband from her own stash was a borrowed oversize t-shirt. Besides depicting a giant middle finger it also said “FXXK THE PATRIARCHY".

She and Asami were wiping the floor with all challengers. Despite their competitive streak everyone was enjoying the Glove Game1. It gave the team a chance to mix between weapons unlike many other footwork oriented drills the practices tended to start with. Gloves were held by their cuffs and the staccato patter of footfalls was broken up by the occasional buffeting of glove tips on shoulders. The game bouts were only three touches long so the whole team shuffled around quickly.

“You seem full of extra vim and vigor today, Korra, what gives?” asked Opal curiously, The sabuerist was practically bouncing around on her toes she was so full of extra energy. Next to them, Kuvira eyed her friend trying to read for signs of where the good mood originated.

“You seem to be in a good mood yourself,” said Korra drumming her fingers along the seam of her knicker. They were taking sips of water and wandering to watch the glove bout between Jinora and Asami. Mako had taken up his post as the referee and the rest of the team took up sides to cheer on their squadmates. The trio stood over by Jinora’s side of the strip while epeeists gathered near Asami’s end. The saber fencers were unsure of who they wanted to cheer and goofed off instead at the sidelines. Bolin was shadow fencing while balancing a sabre tip down on his finger. 

“Stop deflecting. Something has got you worked up and it isn’t smighting people with gloves,” said Kuvira, her nose slightly in the air. 

Korra sighed loudly and chewed on the inside of her lip. She turned to Kuvira ever so slightly, “just thinking of lunch yesterday,” She looked a little abashed. “I had a good long think about what you said,” she said rather seriously.

Kuvira hummed in response, trying not to overreact. Korra must have worked up the courage to MAYBE ask Asami out, so it seemed.

Opal looked quizzically at her two companions. Considering Opal might not have been in on the loop, Kuvira skirted the issue, “Who do you think will win?”

“Asami certainly has height to her advantage on the attack, but Jinora knows when to run away. It should be close,” said Opal watching carefully. She leaned forward and joined the men’s squad in yelling “COME ON JINORA!”

The game went quickly and in no time the score was tied at two to two.

“Oh, here it is, Asami is about to take her down,” said Kuvira. She was not wrong. Two back-and-forths later Asami forced Jinora into overbalancing backwards and brushed the foilists shoulder with the tip of her glove. The epeeists gave a small cheer to their star fencer.

Korra did a quick hop-hop while shaking out her arms and let out a breath. “My turn, wish me luck” she said the words with a slight nervous undertone before she turned and headed straight to Asami. Kuvira wondered if Korra was really wishing for a win at the game, or, something else.

“Do you have the energy for one more or are you going to call it quits before I can redeem myself from the tournament?” Korra called with a slightly raised voice as she parted the crowd, forcing the latter to turn around. She continued, “this is the most weapon neutral fencing game we can play,” she playfully tapped Asami on the shoulder with her glove when they were finally standing face to face. 

“Did you just challenge me to a duel?” The epeeist put her hand on her hip and indicated with the other hand towards the glove with a raised eyebrow. People had been chatting about the matchup before Korra had waltzed in, but there was a sudden hush.

Asami looked over at Opal and asked “Do we have time Captain or is that it?” 

The captain looked at her watch and gave a curt nod. “You had better go referee,” said Opal pushing Kuvira forward with a hand at the small of her back. Kuvira blinked, trying very hard not to react at the contact.

Behind her Kuvira could hear Bolin suddenly become interested in the goings on of the glove game. “Do you think Korra will be able to beat her? I mean, Asami is great with distance, but she can’t flesche in this game. This footwork is kinda Korra’s jam.” 

When the ladies looked over at her expectantly at their respect on guard lines Kuvira remembered what she was supposed to be doing. She stood up straighter and began with her arms out the side palms up. “Ready? Fence,” she said as she moved her arms so that the palms were facing each other.

They started at the on guard lines much too far to reach without shortening the distance. At first they moved to an unheard beat keeping in time with one another. The two alternated moving forward and back for until suddenly Asami closed the distance with a full speed attack. The fingertips of her glove just barely whipped by Korra’s shoulder. Before Asami could recover from her lunge fully Korra was on the attack. 

SMACK!

“Halt, point to Korra.” Kuvira announced as she raised her hand on Korra’s side with her other hand low pointing towards Asami’s end of the strip. She knew that it was not a regular bout, but why not use the proper referee gestures? _It is the clearest and the most proper way to indicate points anyways_.

Before the women walked back to the on guard lines Korra asked “sorry, did that sting your shoulder?” She eyed Asami’s bare arm for a second, looking truly repentant but at the same time proud of the clean hit.

“No, only my ego,” responded Asami, brushing invisible dust from her shoulder as she bent her legs at the on guard line. 

“Ready? Fence!” 

The distance closed almost imperceptibly as they alternated attack and defense. “And one, two, three, one two three,” said Asami to the beat of an unheard waltz. The outstretched glove snapping in the air lazily on their attacks. Both of them were grinning now sharing the joke.

“I’m more of a dub-step fan than a ballroom dancer, but this is nice,” replied Korra. Bolin loudly yawned at their lack of real challenges. As if that were the gong of the clock forcing gunslingers to draw, Asami made a purposefully short attack trying to draw the saber fencer in. Korra took a giant advance covering more ground than she had ever done previously and then she pushed into a powerful lunge. Her backfoot was dragged forward with the momentum. Asami overbalanced backward a bit trying to avoid the glove tip. Her loose ponytail swayed behind her back.

“Halt!” The two competitors straightened up and looked at Kuvira at the same time, confused by the halt as the glove had missed. Kuvira had her hand up again indicating a point for Korra. “Hey, what gives? I totally missed on that attack!” 

“Why are you defending your opponent?” Kuvira raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, but Asami, you took an extra retreat. Score is two to nil.” 

“Good to know she isn’t being biased in your favor, Korra,” said Asami, smirking as she retreated to her on guard line. 

“No provoking the referee. Back on guard.” Kuvira tried to keep a straight face but the almost imperceptible quirk at the corner of her mouth betrayed her. The two opponents smiled at each other knowingly as they went back to the on guard position.

“Ready? Fence!”

Yet again the two women advanced and retreated, neither wanting to be the first to do a full fledged attack. Their distance creeped closer nonetheless, each daring the other to close even more distance without attacking. “Any closer and I’ll be able to dip you in our Glove Tango,” said Korra trying to distract Asami. 

“Any closer and you’ll be making out. Someone attack already!” said one of the guys on the foil squad. _Was that a blush?_ Kuvira saw a thin band of red momentarily cross Asami’s cheeks. 

“‘Show me your pasodoble2!’” quoted Asami as she broke the tempo and reached Korra with her long lunge.

Again Kuvira called halt, but she awarded the point to Asami.

“Oh look, actual fencing, how pleasant,” said Lin behind the gathered students. “Wrap it up ladies, time to start drilling, Everyone else, let’s get going,” ordered Lin, effectively putting a damper on everyone’s mood. She had appeared as if out of nowhere to rain on the fun parade. People immediately dispersed.

More somber now, Kuvira said “ready, fence”.

“Killjoy,” said Korra under her breath, irritated to have her good mood temporarily interrupted. “Well we could just do this for the next half an hour instead if you like? I don’t mind your company that much,” gestured Korra as she took her retreats. Now that they had less of an audience they slowed down their pace. It was a breather while they recharged their reserves. Without the distraction of the team, their eyes locked onto one another, each daring the other to make the first aggressive action.

“Yes, but poor Kuvira will get so bored watching us,” said Asami. Kuvira took her cue and did an exaggerated yawn. “The dance has been fun, but...” Asami paused speaking to do a long lunge but the glove swiped at empty air.

“Oh, I thought you épeé fencers have high resilience to boredom, but it looks like you are the one getting bored. I, on the other hand, was really enjoying this witty repartee. Guess it was just me?” Korra exaggerated a wistful look, “also it’s not every day that I get to watch those long legs in action.” She tilted her head as if trying to get a better look at the mentioned limbs. She watched as Asami was briefly distracted by the leg comment and used the hesitation to do an advance and lunge that just barely missed Asami. 

In retaliation Asami reached out with a long lunge intended to finish the encounter. Again the leather fingertips failed to make contact. She had overcommitted and was too slow in recovering from the lunge. Korra whipped forward like a magnet with a speedy advance and every so slowly and gently flicked the glove to catch Asami on the shoulder. 

“Touche,” admitted Asami. Her eyes tracked from Korra’s retreating hand to her blue eyes. The corner of her mouth quirked up to a tacit smile. 

“Well, it's been swell, but the swelling’s gone down,” Korra said as they gripped hands for a shake at the end of the match.. 

“Call me when your lines are as good as your footwork strategy,” said Asami flatly.

“I mean, you don’t have to be so _touch-y_ about it,” Korra put on a fake pout. She paused for a moment, the strange extra energy still buzzing around her. “Do I really have to wait that long?”

“Not to put too fine a _point_ on it, but you already have my number.” Asami elbowed Korra playfully. The two were walking to their water bottles on the bleachers nearby. 

“Perhaps we should _fleche_ these puns out a bit over dinner then?” _Oh, Korra is not just trying, she is actually going for it._ Kuvira was a little worried about how close she was to the duo and essentially eavesdropping on a private conversation. Luckily the rest of the team was already engaged in drilling. Kuvira picked up her breast protectors and began putting them on, still waiting to find out if Korra had overplayed her hand. 

Asami paused for a moment, water bottle halfway to her lips. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other and took a long drink using the time to consider and displaying the beautiful curve of her neck. Finally she responded, “promise me one thing, if I say yes?” Korra was on tenterhooks waiting to hear the demand. “ _Sharply cut_ down on the puns,” stated Asami, hand on her hips. Even so, she had a smile even wider than she had worn during the match. “They’ll break the tempo of any real conversation.”

A lopsided grin hung on Korra’s face. Kuvira thought she looked kind of drunk. 

For the rest of practice any time Kuvira looked at either Asami or Korra, the two were stealing glances from across the gymnasium.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 The Glove Game is quick to learn, but contains a ton of strategy. A pair of fencers holds a glove by the cuff and tries to smack their opponent in the shoulder with the finger tips of the glove. Opponents start too apart to hit without drawing each other in by alternating between attack and defense. On attack you must advance and lunge. On defence you can take two retreats. Either get a point by hitting on the attack or give up points to opponents by using the wrong footwork. No blocking is allowed, instead you have to back out of distance to avoid a hit.
> 
> 2 This is from the best of the Baz Luhrman films “Strictly Ballroom”
> 
> \----  
> Sorry-not-SORRY about the punnage at the end of this chapter. Trading bad puns is like a requisite of being a fencer. I did have an ex challenge her to a duel in lieu of being asked out properly on a date, but that is a whole other story. --- Sabrepunk
> 
> Firstly, ugh, fencing exes. Secondly, Korra was wrong. She did get to see them long legs every day - in her DREAMS. --- ItchyOutchyZ
> 
> _Bonus question: who do you think lent Jinora the Fxxk Patriarchy shirt?_


	10. Masks On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween night with RCU fencing team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, we know it's been a long time since last chapter but a lot was going on in our lives... For example Sabrepunk and I got married in our backyard (whaaat?!)... Anyways, this is quite an extensive chapter so we hope you enjoy it! ---- ItchyOutchyZ
> 
> This chapter heavily references outside of LoK or ATLA universe based on our own personal preferences. We welcome discussions but of course we would not be able to write about things we don’t know.
> 
> Oh, and beware of the gazillions of footnotes that are probably going to slow down your reading and we do apologize.

The semester finally picked up speed after they finished their first regional. The tournament went well for the RCU women as they battled it out to take first place. The showing for the men was more of a mixed bag. They had a rougher start to the competitive year. Out of six possible squad victories, the men dropped three. 

RCU Women’s foil team bared their fangs on their first outing taking all of the matches, leaving the two teams they faced at the tournament with a big deficit to recover. Kuvira was part of that by coming out with a whopping positive indicator1 of 15.

Meanwhile the épée team under Zhuli’s tutelage did okay. The first team they faced was strong and Asami as the anchor managed to bring the team back to gain a narrow win. The second team RCU faced that day was already exhausted and the team won by a more comfortable margin. 

On the other hand Korra and her squad barely gave up twenty-seven points out of a possible ninety. She steamrolled the competition every time she was up on strip and didn’t give up more than one point during the day. The only issue came when a guy named Tahno from UR White Falls tried to start a fight with the women’s saber squad, Korra specifically, mid competition. Mako and Bolin came in before it escalated into a fight. No one wanted to run the chance of being expelled from the tournament.

\---

After the somewhat intense regionals, the team was looking forward to a chance to relax and enjoy themselves. Everyone, that is, except Korra. She had qualified to go to an international tournament that would take her out of town for a week. For much of October leading up to the competition she was training hard at a large fencing club in town. She missed out on the team preparations for Halloween and was more than a little frustrated she would be at the tournament instead of on campus to enjoy the festivities.

Halloween at RCU was infamous. Faculty freely acknowledged that dressing up and giving out candy and lecturing to the themes of Old Hallows Eve was just as fun for them as it was for the students. Many of the sports teams got in on the act and set up carnival fun, haunted mazes and other activities for youths in the area. It was a good excuse to both bring locals onto campus and to be fundraisers for teams. It was one of the best events for making the campus feel more like part of the local community. The fencing team was not immune and set the gym up as a haunted maze. 

The theme chosen for that year’s maze was _Galaxies Far Away_. Instead of regular practices, the team spent the week prior decorating and assembling pieces in anticipation of the day. Cardboard was taped, foams cut, hot glue melted on, spray paint applied, and paint markers used to add extra details. Through Bolin’s theatre club connection, colorful lights and some backdrops made their ways into the gym as well. All of this was directed by Varrick’s watchful gaze. He had drawn up the blueprints and had a vision of how the strange stack of panels would eventually be puzzled together. Zhuli was the only person who seemed to understand Varrick’s ultimate plan. Everyone else was just following blindly.

Students and coaches who had open schedules during the day were responsible for actually putting everything together. Unfortunately for Kuvira, she would not be able to help with erecting the final maze. Her classes would keep her busy until a short while before the first guests arrived to go through the maze.

For once the weather was perfect on Halloween. The skies were mostly clear and the temperature was moderate and the sun was low on the horizon as Kuvira parked her truck a little further away from the gym than usual. The parking lots were filling up early as kids were beginning their Trick-or-Treat rounds on campus.

She heard a familiar putt-putt and turned around. A motorcycle whipped closely by Kuvira and did a half circle around her in a tight turn. She had to do a double take to make sure it was really who she thought it was.

“Asami’s crotch rocket is more screen accurate, but…” Opal was wearing bright yellow motorcycle leathers featuring a black stripe down the side of her arms and legs. Although she had found a smokey lens for the face shield the high-vis yellow clashed with the leather. There was a guitar case strapped to her back.

“ _Kill Bill_? Why are you carrying a guitar?” Kuvira waited while Opal dismounted and removed her helmet.

“I remember discussing musical instruments as weapons with you at some point. What are you supposed to be?” Opal eyed her up and down. “Did you even dress up?” She had locked her helmet to the bike and was pulling a long blonde wig out of it’s tank bag.

“I’m Nadine from _Lost Legacy_ ,” said Kuvira a little flatly.

“Who?” Opal was fighting to get the bangs on the wig to center over her own hair.

“A video game. Goon slaughtering. Treasure hunting, like Laura Croft, only not white or British.” Kuvira picked up the handle on the guitar case while Opal continued to fiddle with the fake hair.

Opal wracked her brain, “think I’ve seen Bolin playing it before. Did you pick her because it required the absolute minimum effort?” Opal indicated to the worn khakis, tight blue crewneck t-shirt and a leather phone holster strapped to her thigh.

“No.” Kuvira drawled over the syllabus for emphasis. “I picked her because she is a _badass_ ,” Kuvira stood a little straighter trying to mimic the air of her South African character.

“Does she use a sword?” Opal inquired as they began walking toward the gym.

“No. Guns or fists. Occasionally a car wench, why?”

“Ugh, did Bolin not send out the memo? Everyone on the team is supposed to dress up as a character that wields a sword. It’s a tradition.”

“You guys are so extra.”

They stepped through the double doors into the foyer, nodding at Kai who was setting up his magician’s table. His hood was pulled back, but the logo on his belt and the complicated gauntlet were enough to indicate he was dressed as an Assassin from _Assassin’s Creed_. “Are you going to make my wallet disappear again? I fell for that once and I am not falling for it again.” Opal pointed her finger at Kai’s nose.

Kai had the most innocent look on his face, “my character does steal but only for a good cause.” He gave a short bow with a cheeky smile. “Cool Nadine, by the way. How did you get your hair so frizzy?” He grinned at Kuvira, quickly diverting the conversation back on track.

“It’s all about having the right hairbrush and technique.” Kuvira touched her ponytail. “The devil is in the detail. I worked REALLY hard for the desired effect.” She gave Opal a slanted look, gaining an eye-roll in return. “Where should we be going?” Kuvira was not sure where she was supposed to be working.

“Go through the maze. Varrick has really done an amazing job, you guys are going to love it in there,” he thumbed over his shoulder towards the doorway just past his booth. 

One of the men’s épeé team was working the ticket table by the doorway Kai had indicated. “You might want to leave your guitar here and go through once first!” Kuvira tucked the guitar under the table and then the two foilists walked through the doors into another world.

The gym was utterly unrecognizable. It had been transformed into various sized passages, corridors, chambers, and rooms from various space ships. Some areas looked like the inside of _Star Destroyers_ , others were more industrial like _Serenity’s_ hold, and some mirrored the more organic structure in _Moira_. A triumph of design was the final section. Varrick had created narrow ducts that adults had to duck low to pass through. There were scuttling noises emitting randomly from all sides paired with the occasional huff of smoke and a blinking red light. Of course a shiny and slightly oozy Zenomorph was perched at the end.

The maze let out directly through the doors on the far side of the gym from where they had come. Assembled there was the bulk of the team getting ready for their assignments and jobs for the evening.

“Holy cow, Varrick, that was awesome!” Exclaimed Opal when they joined the group. He wiggled his eyebrows in acknowledgement and kept giving everyone their roles. It was a little hard to focus on what he was saying with an alien mid chest-burst.

“We are going to take a few spaces in shifts. A few of you will be jump-scarers, but I want to make sure the little blighters don’t steal any decor or get so scared they don’t know how to get the heck out.” Everyone nodded in agreement. They had worked too hard to trust anyone under the age of thirty not to destroy their work. 

“We are going to close the maze at 10 sharp, so make sure to get any stragglers out A-S-A-P,” he looked at his watch and Zhuli mouthed a word at Verrick as if to remind him of something he also needed to announce. 

“Oh, I’ve been told that based on how well Korra is doing at the international, it is more than likely we will finish in time to watch her battle it out live before we break down the hall.”

Varrick moved on to set various people to assignments throughout the maze. “Now, I know this is everyone’s favorite job, but Opal and Kuvira will be in the Emperor’s Chamber first.” There were audible groans of disappointment from most of the assembled students. Mako looked especially irritated that the two were given the assignment before him. Kuvira just quirked an eyebrow at Opal, not really sure what the job entailed. 

The group took a few minutes to admire everyone’s costume choices. A few other freshmen to the team had apparently also not gotten a reminder from Bolin about wearing swashbuckling costumes. The brothers had however dressed as screen accurately as they could. 

Bolin’s long haired wig looked a little ridiculous but suited the character he picked for the evening. He wore all black with his shirt open, tall fur lined boots with leather wraps and baggy low slung pants. There was a little plastic sprite pinned to his shoulder to round out the display. He was a bit beefier than a young Val Kilmer, but he pulled off the Madmartigan attitude with gusto2.

His brother was sporting a different look altogether. He had on a fake pointed chin beard, torn royal blue collared v-neck shirt and white harem pants. There were a number of leather accessories trimmed with gold details. A giant plastic scimitar and a plastic knife were tucked into his belt3. He wore a sour expression still at not having managed to get the first shift in the Emperor’s Chamber. 

After about five minutes of enjoying seeing everyone’s creativity, Varrick broke up the group with a shout of “Alright, let’s get to work!” 

Everyone dispersed to their assigned locations. Opal tugged Kuvira’s wrist to pull her towards an expectant Zhuli. The coach was waiting patiently while holding a fencing bag gingerly. “I thought that you two could be trusted with the most fun and taxing job of the evening. Here’s your uniforms and instructions. If you need a break I’ll be coming through every twenty to check on everyone.” Zhuli handed the bag and a little index card to Opal. Again Opal grabbed Kuvira’s wrist and dragged her back into the maze. 

When they arrived in the largest of the spaces Opal opened the bag and drew out its soft contents first. The room was dimly lit, the only sources of light were a star field outside starship shaped windows and lights running along the floor providing a track for visitors to follow. She handed Kuvira a black set of robes. “You have always struck me as more of a Dark Side user anyways, and you have like an inch of height on me. Not that it’s important. Put those on.” Opal removed her bright yellow motorcycle jacket and swapped it with the set of dull brown robes from the bag. 

“Now for the fun part,” Opal exclaimed as she drew out two lightsabers from the old fencing bag. “I can’t believe Mako actually decided to let us use these!” 

“Are they…” Kuvira approached and reached out a tentative hand. “They _are_ combat quality!” She put her hand around the guard and instinctively found the power button. “Oh, very fancy,” she said as the light crept up the blade and it made the signature noise of being turned on. She was now equipped better as a Sith Lord. 

“We will stay on this side of the track lights.” Opal used her toes to nudge the bag behind the scene and pulled out the index card she was given, angling it towards the light to read the instruction in the semi-darkness. “ ‘To keep visitors moving along, the Sith Lord is going to die dramatically. Once stabbed, kill the light on the saber so you won’t have to hit the floor.’“ She shrugged at the very specific instructions. Varrick’s work most likely. “Shall we begin?”

“I have the high ground,” intoned Opal lighting her blade and backing away from Kuvira. 

“When last we met I was but the learner…” Catching on quickly, Kuvira gently lifted her blade two handed to face the team captain as she settled into a defensive stand.

Opal wasted little time and charged at Kuvira. Well, charging was perhaps a little exaggerated. She simply took two quick small steps towards Kuvira and jabbed at her shoulder. Instead of the usual fencing advances that were all about the feet, her movement was a lot more dramatic with her upper body.

Kuvira reacted immediately and blocked Opal’s strike by swiping sideways. There was a satisfying clashing sound as the lightsabers registered the interaction of the blades. Kuvira smiled wickedly. This was a lot more fun that she expected. She was pleased that her Jedi opponent was not holding back either.

Opal held the blue glowing weapon with one hand and used it more like a Chinese sword. There were a few more experimental jabs and swings as she did a number of piercing motions in quick sequence. Kuvira backed away cautiously watching as Opal changed her stance with each movement, angling her attacks from all directions. 

As Opal drew close Kuvira kept both hands on the weapon, respecting the movies’ use of the blades. She swung her sabre with circular and wiping motions, attempting strikes at Opal with the blade rather than the tip. Instead of blocking the strikes, Opal kept her upper body very fluid and ducked and weaved. The red and blue of the lightsabres trapped them in a globe of light as they moved in sync.

People were coming through the maze pausing to watch a few of the blade interactions, not realizing that they were witnessing a lack of fight choreography. In an unspoken agreement, if someone seemed to be lingering too long, Kuvira would purposefully leave a ridiculous opening to take a “killing blow” and hit the switch on her saber. Opal would call out to stragglers “Keep moving, storm troopers will soon be on their way!” Once the Trick-or-Treater moved on, the two would begin their battle anew. 

The two women revelled in the lack of regular fencing constraints. Gone were strict markings of the strip, gone was the restriction to a single gloved hand and no need to worry about a valid target area. The two moved about the hall freely circling, switching hands, aiming for whatever open target they could reach. 

It did not take them long to reach an easy rhythm of swings and misses so neither hit very hard if they did make contact on the body. Their eyes were constantly adjusting to the light with the brightness of the sabers drawing so much attention. 

Fifteen minutes in they were flagging in energy. It took a lot to swing the weapons and make sure they did not hit the scenery. There was an exchange where Kuvira steadily pushed forward. Her lightsabre chopped down with purpose and determination forcing Opal to slowly back away towards the wall. There was no audience to pause their fight, so Kuvira wanted to make sure to land a few hits on Opal that were clearly nothing to do with the scripted “taking a dive”. It was the playful competitiveness both fencers were used to by now. Kuvira went to raise the sword high above her head for a blow, but while she was lifting the blade, Opal killed the light on her saber. With the bright blue light gone, Kuvira had temporary night blindness, the absent blade light seared into her retina. Taking advantage of her opponent's lag in light adjustment Opal slipped away. 

Confused and hyper aware of the fact that a line had been crossed now that they were playing more rather than just working their post, Kuvira paused with her red blade still held high. She whipped her head around as she felt a gentle tug on her hair. She pivoted in place bringing the blade down to on guard once again just as Opal’s blade flashed to life once again, illuminating a smirk. Cheekily Opal’s blade was upright behind her back as she stood in first position4. Kuvira could feel her hair had come loose and was around her shoulders. Opal’s eyes glinted with victory and mischief. Her free hand held something out in the glow of Kuvira’s red blade. 

Kuvira’s eyes widened as she made out what was held aloft. Her hair tie. 

Suddenly Kuvira was glad of the darkness. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks from embarrassment and something else. 

“I kinda need that so I can get back to kicking your ass,” Kuvira hid the slight tightness in her voice behind their usual competitive banter. She freed her left hand from around the lightsabre and reached for the hair tie. Opal merely pulled back the hand holding the target object, beaming all the while. Kuvira grew more embarrassed at her failed snatch and took another step forward for a second try. Loose hair tendrils rose and fell around her enrobed shoulders with the lurching movement. Opal did not move her feet but pivoted away moving the hair tie further from Kuvira’s reach.

This brought their faces scant inches from each other. 

Opal tucked her hand behind her, taunting. Her Cheshire Cat smile was clear even in the twilight of the room. She was up to something nefarious. If Kuvira was determined to keep reaching further back for what’s hers, their bodies would be touching. 

Kuvira was having a hard time calculating her next move. She could just give up and break the moment. Sure, her pride was hurt, she was taken by surprise, and she did want her hair-tie back, but there was something about the proximity she did not want to end. She _wanted_ to stay in their stalemate. 

Her brain quickly clicked through options to extricate herself safely. Hitting Opal with the lightsabre was not out of the question but perhaps a bit blunt. Leaning in to kiss her would undoubtedly take her by surprise and Kuvira was abhorred at how quickly her brain reached for that option. _But no, that is not a viable option for so many reasons._

Inside a few breaths Kuvira finally came to a solution and used her front leg to hook Opal’s, forcing her opponent to lose her balance. The team captain had been caught completely off guard and although normally nimble she overbalanced backwards. The arm holding the hair-tie encircled Kuvira’s arm and pulled her down as well. 

Kuvira narrowly avoided crashing onto Opal with all of her weight. She quickly rolled onto her back after the impact.

Next to her, Opal had one arm covering her face and her shoulders were quivering. Opal was giggling and then began laughing uproariously. The laughter was infectious. It did not take the Sith long before she was following suit. 

As if sensing her gaze, Opal removed her arm and turned her head. Their eyes locked and the laughter died down. Kuvira could sense panic spreading in her chest as her heart beat faster and harder. _This is the part where I still want to kiss her only moreso._

“Tell me you didn't just break my lightsabres,” exclaimed Mako. He was standing with a look of horror on his face just inside the exit door.

Kuvira was the first to get up from her prone position on the ground. Somehow she had managed to keep her lightsaber from hitting the turf by putting it between her and Opal as they fell. She offered her free hand to Opal. The captain stood up as fast as she could and then she turned to pick up her sabre from where she had landed on her butt moments before. 

“At most it has realistic battle damage on the hilt,” she said, igniting the blue blade again. Fortunately the sound effects worked and the blade still lit properly. She might have scratched up the grip a tiny bit when it hit the floor, but she took the brunt of the fall mostly with her own body. “Relax, Mako. We didn’t break it or anything.” Opal said slightly apologetically.

“Sorry, man, we got a little carried away.” Kuvira said as Mako’s shoulder’s relaxed ever so much. “To be fair these are awesome toys,” 

“They are not -” Mako took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, and opened them again, “It’s ok. We are all just trying to have a good time here.” He muttered through gritted teeth and tensed lips, obviously still not over it. “Zhuli sent me in here to see if you guys needed a break. And it seems that you do.”

Abashed, the foilists conceded that they should probably take a few minutes. Mako reached out his hand for the sabers and asked the women to remove their robes. “Send Bolin in when you get outside,” he said, taking the offered robes. Opal retrieved her jacket and wig before they left Mako putting on the back robe. 

The foilists walked along the lit path towards the exit. 

“Are you ok?” Kuvira broke the awkward silence. “Did you get hurt at all?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Opal was looking forward and a certain levity in her tone.

They moved from chamber to chamber in silence smiling at teammates as they went by. Inside the maze was more frightening than the first time they had passed through. The lights were lower, more sounds were being piped through the spaces and Kuvira was developing a serious crush on her team captain. 

Once they were outside in the cool night air Kuvira finally took a deep breath. She had not realized how little air she was talking in as she walked beside Opal or how warm she had become. She was thankful to see their third squad mate greet them with chilled bottles of water and a candybar. 

“Either that is the most amazing bald cap I’ve ever seen or you did actually shave your head since yesterday,” Opal said unsure if it was a comment or a question.

“Oh, no, I shaved it alright,” Jinroa reached up to touch the hair that was no longer there. 

“Someone doesn’t look very happy about it” Kuvira had spied Tenzin nearby wearing a disgruntled look. “Did you do it just for your costume?” Jinora was wearing plate armor and carrying around a cross. There was a broken arrow protruding from the middle of her thigh armor5. 

“No, I didn’t do it just for my Joan, but to also piss off my dad.”

“Mission accomplished. It does suit you, but I am not sure you will love it in the middle of winter,” commented Kuvira 

“Luckily I have an excellent collection of beanies and trucker caps with all kinds of queer friendly messages that might aggravate dad even more. He should never have bounced the QA meeting for a surprise practice.”

“Remind me not to get on your bad side,” said Kuvira under her breath, grateful that the young woman was on their squad.

“I am going to triple check to make sure that dad doesn’t find a way to double book anything for the night of Drag Ball. I made sure to schedule it for a weekend we don’t have anything else on,” she addressed this to Opal. “Let me know immediately if he tries something.”

Kuvira left her squad mates to their discussion about planning for the Drag Ball and wandered off. It was another occasion to dress up in the near future but she was just trying to survive Halloween night first. She soon found a folding chair and plopped down on it to rest. Before long she knew she would have to go back to the maze again. She hoped that during the course of the evening Opal would not find another excuse to get as torturously close as the moment she had taunted Kuvira with the stolen hair tie. 

To her bemusement, she found herself not alone in the pining department. Not far from her, sitting on the curb was Asami.

“Not enjoying the night?” The épéeist asked quietly, looking up from her phone. She had on a sleeveless coverall in a drab shade of olive-brown with a floral pink three quarter sleeve u-neck shirt.

“On the contrary, I think I might have been enjoying it a bit too much. It gets a bit overwhelming sometimes.” Kuvira thought saying it all loud would lend her some perspective but she could not help but glancing over at Opal’s direction.

“Hmnn.” Asami did not question it and checked her phone again.

“Is Korra doing ok?” Kuvira was glad she did not have to pretend when it was just the two of them.

“Yeah, I believe so… At least she was 2 hours ago when I told her good luck.” Asami did not attempt to hide how much she missed the saberist either.

\---

“Guys, hurry! You know how sabre matches are, blink and you miss it!” Bolin waved over to Kuvira and Opal to take seats near a big screen that had been set up just outside the gym doors. It was roughly ten oclock and they had closed the gym to outsiders for the evening.

Mako was crouching down next to the mobile AV station which his laptop was connected to. He pointed the remote to the TV and clicked the button several times until the input of his laptop feed appeared on the screen. 

The feed showed an electronic scoring machine front and center. It was set in an arena with a background so deep a blue that it was nearly black. In the foreground was an empty but well lit strip. There were sponsor signs and boards visible on the periphery. 

A male and female voice were killing time between matches. The man had a british accent where the woman sounded like an ex-athlete based on her insights. They were talking about the styles of the competitors of the previous bout which to a non-fencer would have been gibberish6.

Soon everyone on the team had settled down around the TV. The night air had turned crisp, but after working the Halloween night away, viewing the live fencing in the cold air was a welcome respite. It was an odd crowd viewed from the outside. Some people were still in full costume, others had shed accessories so they were almost in street clothes. A Cyranose de Bergeracwas sitting on a chair next to classic comics Nightcrawler. The bamfer’s left was a Jack Sparrow and a Peter Pan7. There were a few folding chairs, but some students sat on the ground while others stood expectantly leaning over their friends sitting in the chairs. 

Kuvira had taken a few minutes in the locker room to put up her hair in the pony tail again, but most of the frizz had given up over the course of the evening. She was perched on the floor in a small triangle with Opal and Asami waiting patiently with everyone. Asami had unzipped the upper half of her sleeveless coveralls and let it hang around her waist while the pink floral print shirt was pushed up to her elbows. Opal’s jacket and wig were firmly in place and she was tuning her guitar during the lull between matches. 

“What are you going to play while we wait, Opal?” asked a Seahawk8.

“Something to go with Asami’s costume, maybe.” she said fiddling with the last tuning key. She began plucking the five opening notes and sang with a country twang “ _Take my love, take my land, take me where I can not stand, I don't care cause i'm still free, you can't take the sky from me._ ” There were plenty of teammates that had joined her before she reached the end.

She had barely gotten into playing “ _Leaving, on a Jet Plane_ ” while pointedly looking at Asami before things finally started happening on the broadcast. She put her hands over the strings to stop the vibration of the strings, silencing the music and singing. 

“Coming up to the piste now is Halyna Kozachenko from Ukraine. She has had a strong season this year and is the favorite for this bout. She’s won three out of the last five tournaments and podiumed the rest,” said the male voice. The Ukrainian had strong cheekbones and was slim with long blonde hair woven into a tight braid. While she ran to the on guard line on the strip, graphics of her numerous victories took up part of the screen. 

The RCU students cheered so loudly when Korra first appeared that they drowned out what the commentator had been saying. Slowly they hushed so that the woman’s voice could be heard. “...in this quarter final Korra might actually turn out to be a dark horse.” A graphic with Korra in a neon pink ring popped up from the bottom of the screen to have lines shoot out and show a montage featuring her on the piste in action, roaring with victory, and winning medals. “Although relatively new to the international scene, the RCU Junior has been hot on the heels of the medal contenders we see tonight. I would not be shocked if she has Olympic Champion on her resume in the near future.”

Both competitors were now shown side by side on the strip facing a referee in silhouette. They saluted each other, the referee, and Korra pointedly did a salute to the camera. Next they tested the weapons by tapping tip to mask and moved to their on guard line. Kuvira noted the patches adorning the leg of Korra’s knickers. She had not seen them before during practices and local competitions, but assumed they were from previous tournaments and honors.

The match began and the team followed along with every touch and call. They cheered when Korra got clear one light touches. They booed when her opponent did the same. They groaned when the referee made questionable calls. Tenzin was the loudest and most verbal when it came to every break in the action.

“Come on Bumi! Tell Korra to ask for a replay! Neither have used it in this half,” he yelled at the screen when the score was 3 to 5 in Halyna’s favor. “Why aren’t you having her attack more?” He continued to shout as though Bumi could hear him clear across the continent to the distant tournament.

Kuvira turned and whispered to Opal “what’s Coach’s deal? Who’s Bumi?”

Opal tore her eyes from the screen for a moment while Kozachenko used a chance to review the previous touch. Asami leaned in closer to the two foilists to hear what Opal had to say.

“Korra has been with the White Lotus Fencing Club since high school. Tenzin worked there for years before he was offered the position at the university. Here he gets more time with family, less rigorous hours and life in academia. But it also meant he was giving up his chance of coaching Korra on tour. 

“To be honest, the club was kind of elitist and without Tenzin, Korra kind of hated it there. Against Tenzin and the rest of the White Lotus’ advice she picked Bumi as her new coach. He was on the outs with the club at the time. He is the last person to give her shit about what NOT TO DO. Frankly, his style of coaching works better with Korra’s style of fencing. Don’t tell the coach I said that. It is a sore point.” Both Kuvira and Asami nodded in silent agreement.

Meanwhile the referee maintained his call for Korra’s beat attack bringing the score to 7 to 5 in Korra’s favor. Somehow she had stalled out Kozachenko’s initial lead. A few more touches on and they were in the mid-bout break. Korra had given up one point, but was still ahead. 

The commentators waxed poetic over the highlight reel from the bout. In between clips they went back to the fencers chatting with their coaches at the respective ends of the strip. The Ukrainian fencer was visibly irritated she had not pulled ahead of Korra during the bout. At the far end Korra and Bumi were talking animatedly. Korra took sips of water and occasionally nodded as Bumi gesticulated wildly. Korra was subtly bouncing on her toes still full of energy and eager to move onto the second half.

“We are about to go into the rest of the bout and have switched referees. I have to say Korra has done a good job at figuring out Haylna’s distance. I expect we will see Korra use her stronger legs to her advantage. Look how much she is still bouncing with excitement even after a full day of fencing. I am tired just looking at her. And there she’s pulled distance with a beautiful parry riposte right there at the end of the strip.”

Asami had scooted a little closer to the screen. It was as if she was willing Korra to open the gap in the score even wider and it seemed to work. The whole team got rowdy again as Korra maintained her five point lead through to the end of the bout with 15-10. At the last touch everyone was on their feet hopping around and cheering. Korra quickly saluted and shook the hand of her opponent before running and practically picking Bumi up with a bear hug as she had offset her higher-seeded opponent.

Hugs in the assembled team followed shortly. Since Kuvira was closest to Asami, the epeeist turned to her first and scooped her up in an enthusiastic hug. They were both pleased with their mutual friend’s tournament results thus far. Who cared if there was still a semi-final the next morning? With the upset that Korra had already pulled off it was more than likely she would be standing on the podium.

Still jubilant, Kuvira was eager to continue with the celebration. Asami released her from the hug and she turned only to get swept up again by Bolin. Released once again Kuvira decided it was time to duck out of the crowd when she ended up face to face with an exuberant Opal. This time Kuvira had a moment to decide if she wanted a hug whereas before, it was foisted upon her. She hesitated for half a heartbeat before giving an awkward hug to Opal. It was made briefer still when Kuvira felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. 

“Wait, sorry.” She quickly released Opal and reached for her phone. She answered quickly with the speaker activated making sure to show the screen to Asami and Opal. The team was still cheering and celebrating so loudly they had trouble hearing Korra.

People around them started shushing once they realized it was Korra calling.

“I guess you guys managed to tune in?” Came Korra’s voice. Asami turned her attention to the screen. The coverage was still going and they could actually see Korra near Bumi, phone to her ear.

“Wave to Asami and the rest of us,” shouted Kuvira into the phone. A moment later Korra waved one handed to the camera, pinned her phone between ear and shoulder and used both hands to form a heart. 

“I’m glad I won the bout. Would suck if y’all just watched me lose on live stream.”

Opal plucked at her guitar and began a sea shanty. “So merry sail we,” here some of the older teammates joined in raising the volume, “NO MORTAL ON EARTH LIKE A SAILOR AT SEA. Heave away, haul away, the ship rolls along, give a sailor a,” the rabble of singers broke for a moment to let Opal fill in the ever changing blank word of the chorus. “SABRE and nothing goes wrong." Of course a few of the fencers moonlighted as SCAthians9. 

The live broadcast finally cut away from within the arena. Kuvira and Asami moved further away from the singers so that they could hear Korra clearly. “See you all soon, I wish I could have been there to see everyone’s costumes this year,” Korra said wistfully down the line.

Asami leaned in so she could be heard over her teammates and said “this is a much better treat than a trick. Nice fencing. Call me later when you get back to the hotel. I’ll catch you up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Sabrepunk: The dreaded footnotes have returned. I had a lot of commentary I resisted including in the narrative so they ended up there. If you need/want more information on character choices they give you a jumping off point.  
> 1 If you have a positive indicator you have won more bouts than you have lost. Having such a wide margin is great.  
> 2 One of many classic Films left on during fencing parties is of course _Willow_ (1988).  
> 3 Not a super appropriate character for Mako but he is the video game version of Prince of Persia: Sands of Time. A great adventure/puzzle video game that was turned into a movie that had almost nothing to do with the original source material. Do not watch the movie.  
> 4 First position has heels together with feet at a ninety degree angle. Fencers should in theory always salute in this stance before coming on guard.  
> 5 The _Messenger_ (1999) has a brilliant moment where Joan of Arc (Mila Jovovich) stands surveying a siege in full plate. A cohort approaches her and said “Joan, you have an arrow in your leg” to which she looks down and says “So there is.” I could not for the life of me figure out if the movie was supposed to be a comedy. I also think this is where Skyrim gets its oft maligned line about an arrow to the knee and I was sorely tempted to make a crack about in the text, but it would have been a shoehorn comment. -Saberpunk  
> 6 Yeah, we know that this might be a bit meta… We didn’t want to bore you guys more than necessary.  
> 7 A Muppet version of Cyrano De Bergerac, I envisioned Nightcrawler as he appears in the Excalibur comics (I was going to put Shatterstar, but again I was thinking of old school comics version, not the Deadpool 2 Movie version) and that’s Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy? Tick tock goes the croc while I am at it.  
> 8 Whether you want this to be the Noell Stevenson version, the Classic 80’s cartoon or the Errol Flynn movie that gave the other two the mustache is up to you.  
> 9 SCAthians are members of the Society for Creative Anachronisms. There is no lack of crossover between fencing nerds and nerds into history hence there will undoubtedly be a bunch who know sea shanties and other bawdy songs.
> 
> Sabrepunk Additional Notes: Had Korra been in town she would have convinced her merry band to all dress as characters from The Princess Bride. You can argue amongst yourselves who would have gotten which character but Bolin would have had a wheelbarrow either way.


	11. Black Card

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second regional is here. How will the event turn out for Kuvira and her squad?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ItchyouchyZ: This chapter includes characters from Ruins of Empire the LoK comics. If you haven't read it it's not going to affect you reading this chapter at all BUT if you haven't read it? You totally should because the Kuvira from that was absolutely top notch delish.
> 
> Sabrepunk: A glossary term NOT as a footnote? What is wrong with us this time?
> 
>  _Black Card_ : Used to expel someone from a tournament venue. They can be given to anyone at a fencing venue including coaches, spectators, the janitor, what have you. They are awarded for serious breaches in protocol like purposefully hurting a competitor, throwing a mask on the ground in a show of bad sportsmanship, failing a random drug test, cussing out a referee, threatening, fighting, etc. A competitor being booted will automatically forfeit any remaining bouts.

Immediately following Halloween, practices intensified in preparation for the next regional.

Kuvira had been strategically trying not to arrive at the practices as early as she used to due to her recently discovered feelings for her team captain slash squad mate. It was a delicate balance as she did not want to STOP showing up early, either. It would be suspicious to suddenly change habits and to be honest she really treasured their alone time together before everyone else arrived. 

It would be more convenient if Kuvira did not have to spend so much time thinking about all these revelations, intentions, or feelings, et cetera as all school work increased exponentially the closer to the holidays. Not to mention the mounting pressure to perform well at the next regional. But it was easier said than done.

The last practice before the second regional, Kuvira stepped into the gym carefully, bracing for the oncoming flood of emotions that included nervousness, admiration, and hope, just to name a few. The person of interest was currently sitting in the office, scrolling through a spreadsheet. Opal leaned back in the office chair and beckoned her over with a smile, “come and look at this.”

Kuvira dropped her backpack by the door and took a deep breath through her nose as she walked into the office. She stood behind Opal and carefully rested her gangly fingers on the chairback.

“What am I looking at?” She feigned a casual tone.

On the computer screen was a list of names followed by a bunch of “+” and “-” with numbers.

“I am keeping track of the indicators.” Opal hit a column and the list re-organized itself. “Did you know that your plus fifteen from the last regional is just behind Korra, tied with Asami, and ahead of Mako and me?” Opal paused to give Kuvira a moment to look at the list. Then she glanced up at her, “keep it up for the next four regionals and you’ll have a good chance of going to the individuals championship,” she paused again for dramatic impact and said “no pressure.”

 _The championships_. Something Kuvira had dreamed of for a long time. She honestly had not been thinking much about that with all of the other things going on. She felt weirdly greedy all of a sudden with so many things she wanted out of life. “I can’t tell if that was meant to be encouraging.”

“Can’t I be proud of my squadmate?” Opal grumbled as she turned back to the computer and scratched behind her ear. “Did you not notice my aunt has been nice to you lately? That’s her way of appreciating your progress.”

“If her version of nice is to have me do ten extra drills, then I am truly flattered.”

“Trust me. She only pushes because she cares. You don’t want the other version of that in the Beifong family. Usually it is benign neglect rather than outright abandonment. All I am saying is, Coach will be watching you next week. Keep your streak going.”

\---

The weekend went by like a sabre bout. 

“What’s your plan for Thanksgiving?”

Korra was half lounging on the bench, a baseball cap pulled low to shade her eyes. Across from her Asami was reading a magazine. Kuvira was enjoying a cup of tea as she people-watched. The trio were enjoying breakfast at the school hosting the regional. They were trying to shake off the exhaustion that came with the travel and get into the zone for the matches to come with the help of caffeine.

Kuvira put down her cup and shrugged. Korra was still expecting some sort of answer. “The usual,” as all she offered after a brief moment.

“Which is?” Still not satisfied, Korra tilted the cap up and squinted at Kuvira. 

“Nothing really. The school always hosts some sort of get-together thing for international students who can’t go home. I will probably sneak into that. You know, free food and all,” she finished somewhat lamely.

“That has got to be the saddest orphan story I have heard from you so far,” said Korra sitting up straight. “You want to come along to my parents' place?”

“I don’t think so,” denied Kuvira on principle.

“Why not? Besides the stuffed bird my dad does the most amazing lamb chops. You know I don’t mind having your dreadful silence and terrible music accompanying me during the seven hour drive.”

Kuvira rolled her eyes. “Let’s discuss this after the regional. I can’t really think of anything until after that.”

“Fine,” said Korra, a little irritated to have been derailed. “When do you fly out to the East Coast, Asami?”

Asami looked surprised at the question. “Uh… Actually…” She closed her automotive magazine and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Dad cancelled our plans. There is some,” she paused for a breath, “work stuff he has to handle.” She fidgeted with the magazine and played with it while avoiding looking up. 

Kuvira frowned. The engineer was usually more eloquent when talking about her somewhat unusual life due to her background. She was also surprised that Asami had not immediately shared her sudden change of plans for such an important holiday with Korra. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you are staying in town?” Korra finally sat up straight and looked questioningly at Asami. 

“I… He only just told me yesterday.” Asami seemed to be growing more awkward as the conversation went on.

“That’s it,” Korra slapped the table, shocking Asami slightly. “I’ve decided that both of you are coming with me to my parents. I’ll text my mom right now,” she reached into the pocket of her hoodie and whipped out her phone.

“Korra…” Asami gave her a small smile and shared a look with Kuvira. 

“Whatever it is. I don’t want to hear it.”

\---

Kuvira was sitting on a bench one leg up on it next to her. She was carefully wrapping some cloth tape around the bottom of her knickers securing it to her long socks. Korra’s old knickers were a touch short so it was insurance against a gap opening between the protective material and her socks. Anything to avoid cards and problems with referees during bouts. At some point she really should get a pair where the elastic had not given up at the knee. 

“Still can’t afford new knickers after all this time, huh, beansprout?” Kuvira had not heard that nickname in years. She looked up to see the man who had hurled the insult approaching her alongside another familiar face. The man wore a meticulous buzzcut that looked like it was touched up not an hour since and the woman wore a stone face. They wore matching _“Imperial College Ba Sing Se”_ warmups. Guan and Sheng respectively. 

Kuvira fought to keep her face passive. _This is not going to be a fun reunion._

“It was very rude of you to not even say goodbye to everyone at the club, you know? We had high hopes for you,” Sheng said with a smarmy look. The years had not cut the sharpness of the tone she always seemed to use with Kuvira. 

“I had very little choice in the matter, I assure you. We’ll see what the day holds for us.” It was a very politic way of saying fuck off, but not in as many words. She might have said good luck to anyone else, but not these two. 

\---

_The blade flicked down. The tip lodged at the bib of her opponent. Her front foot landed on the strip with a thud. The blade bent up under force making the scoring machine beep loudly. The touch landed her another practice bout victory._

_Six months at the sport and she was ecstatic to be winning more bouts than she lost. She took off her mask and walked over to shake hands with her opponent. Kuvira was grinning and about to say something nice about what a good time she had bouting when she saw the face of the girl opposite her. The other fencer’s lips were pressed into a firm line and her brow was furrowed. The compliment Kuvria was about to give died in her throat. She knew she would not be able to ask for a rematch. The two shook hands curtly then the other girl turned around and walked off._

_Mask under arm, still hooked up, Kuvira was a little lost. Her eyes followed the girl she just defeated. Her opponent joined two other kids at the bench and bent down to whisper something with them. All three of them looked her way._

_Kuvira felt uneasy. She did not know what she did wrong. She never really found any community at her school but at the club, she was excited to be around other kids her age that shared a love of fencing._

_The other two students on the bench seemed well-rested enough. Kuvira gathered enough courage to approach. “Hey, anyone want to fence again?” All the kids were a close match in height. Sheng, who was sitting in the middle, between the girl she had just fenced and a boy named Guan, stood up and looked haughtily down her nose at Kuvira, a feat made difficult since there was barely an inch between their heights._

_“No thank you Annie,” was her response. Her shiny new weapon glinted coldly._

_Kuvira looked past Sheng to the other students still on the bench. Guan was there and gave a wry smile. “Yeah, maybe next time Bean-Sprout,” said Guan in a mocking tone pointedly looking at Kuvira’s whites. The cuff of her glove barely covered the sleeve of her jacket. No sooner had she gotten second hand whites then she started growing out of them. Her growth spurt made it much clearer that the other students had superior equipment._

_Barely six months in and people seemed determined to break her and make her quit the sport. The long walk back to the far end of the hall took an eternity. It was difficult for her to unhook from the overhead wiring system as her hands were shaking so much. All she wanted to do was to fence._ That was what they were all there for, wasn’t it? _Upset despite doing so well on the piste, she walked into the locker room and threw down her mask. Before she had even kicked the tiled wall and hurt her foot she was in tears. Fencing was supposed to be her happy place. Why did they have to go about ruining it?_

\---

Whatever goddess and spirits were in charge of the regional schedule that day had little pity on Kuvira. She had wanted to avoid ICB until she was more mentally prepared to face Sheng, but they were slated to face her team as the last match of the day’s tournament. 

To give the squad some experience with fencing in the team format, Opal had decided they would rotate the anchor position against each team. Normally the anchor would be given to the strongest fencer (Opal), but being in spot forced a competitor to rethink pacing and strategy. Fortunately for Kuvira, Jinora was slated to anchor against ICB. But first they faced Omashu State. 

Tenzin had run a practice match for the squads to go against their opposite gendered counterparts so newbies could get a feel for team fencing. Unlike in individual competitions, team members would fence against everyone from the opposite team in relay five touch bouts. The first bout would be won like a normal five touch, three minute bout. The following bout would be won by whoever got to ten points first in the three minute time limit. The next to fifteen until there were nine bouts with a total of forty five points. A fencer could finish the second bout with a score of ten to three and the next team mate could finish with a loss of ten to fifteen without having gained any points for the team. This way the anchor position was vital for recovering any lost ground during a relay.

Kuvira was slated as the anchor against Omashu State. She was to fence first and last with the bout order they had drawn. 

The RCU squad put their hands together for a quick huddle. Kuvira began to buzz with nervous energy again, her hands trembling with the adrenaline. Before letting go, Opal gave Kuvira’s hand a quick squeeze. With their eyes locked and without saying a word the team captain let Kuvira know that she was seen, that Kuvira would kick butt. There was something else in the look too, but Kuvira was not sure if she had read it clearly. She gave a quick squeeze back and then stepped up onto the strip. 

Despite her nerves, it was a relatively uneventful five touch bout. The other team used their time-out a little too late to help their fencer to change the pace of the bout to recover ground. Kuvira was pleased that her nervousness had not gotten in the way of her fencing. She held her fist together for a pump turning to see Opal stepping onto the strip ready to hook up.

“Good job. But don’t get ahead of yourself yet.” Opal gave her a routine low-five and a smile that sent her all the way up in the clouds.

Kuvira stepped back to the rest area and sat down next to Jinora. She was glad everyone’s eyes were glued to Opal anyways, so she joined them.

She did not think she would ever get tired of watching Opal fence. The light footwork and precision of bladework made her infinitely watchable. The more she stared and spent time with Opal the more she appreciated the green eyes being focused on destroying other fencers. Even though her style might lack aggressive dominance of other fencers like Korra, the control she had in defence was mesmerizing. Opal reminded Kuvira of the precise mechanical innerworks of automatons.

Between engagements Kuvira’s eyes followed Opal as the Captain walked back to the on guard line bending her blade twice one way and once the other before coming back on guard. Methodically Opal bent her legs settling into position and precisely placing her hand and blade in a textbook parry six. Kuvira always wondered what went through Opal’s head during her little routines. Another thing she found was that Opal rarely looked at people, not coaches or teammates, when she was on strip. There was never the kind of silent communication between athletes and their sideline aides with Opal and anyone. She always looked beyond her opponent and down her feet as she walked back to the on-guard line, then back at her opponent again. It was as if her eye-tracking had a routine, too. She was completely in her zone and all alone, too.

Opal, cool as a cucumber, precisely scored the last touch of the bout leading with 10-5 against Omashu State. Just as she witnessed many times before, Opal did not look any more thrilled than usual with the large margin she helped create on the scoreboard. She shook hands with her opponent and then came to the end of the strip to help Jinora hook up. Her expression looked neutral if not a bit haughty the whole time until she gave Jinora a tiny but warm smile before returning to sit down next to Kuvira. 

As Opal unscrewed and sipped on a bottle of water Kuvira looked two strips over to where Sheng was on the strip fencing. Guan was coaching her. What happened earlier came back and formed a tight knot in her stomach. She became jittery again with the return of her irritation at seeing Sheng.

“Do you ever get nervous?” Kuvira asked Opal.

Opal swallowed the water and looked over at her squadmate, “huh?”

“You seem always so steady and calm on the strip,” Kuvira eyed the nearest machine with referee. Opal chuckled in response, sensing that Kuvira had started the conversation with a purpose. She waited for Kuvira to continue the thought.

Kuvira sighed and looked away from Opal. She took in the arena for a moment, nervous to even bring up these problems with her team captain. “How do you do it? do you never get scared or suffer butterflies when facing someone?”

On the one hand Kuvira wished for a solution from Opal but on the other hand she was not sure if she wanted to find out if Opal was as lofty and inhumanly detached as she imagined.

“Oh, no I feel all of the same things you are feeling right now. Of course I do,” Kuvira watched her carefully from the corner of her eye. She had no idea what Opal was feeling at that moment. Every time she was near the team captain, Kuvira’s butterflies were less about nerves and more about her ever growing attraction. 

Opal was fidgeting ever so slightly with her water bottle. “Aunt Lin’s philosophy is that how you behave and act on the strip will feed into your emotions. It is best not to show any emotion and simply fence with your head straight. If you start acting frustrated, you will only get more frustrated. Your opponent will be able to read you like an open book and take advantage of that. My mom says the same thing but in a more packaged, zen, philosophical version. _Contain your emotions, so they don’t contain you_. In essence it comes out to the same thing.”

Kuvira turned to look at her friend. It was true that Opal was mostly reserved in mixed company. She had trouble remembering if she had ever seen a truly disappointed or angry look on Opal’s face. She reviewed every interaction and only remembered either uplifting emotions or a stonewalled face. Opal was more guarded than she had realized.

“Do you actually believe that though?” Kuvira was afraid of the answer. If Opal treated all interactions with such care, was there anyone she was truly open with?

“What? It’s worked so far hasn’t it?” Opal half shrugged. Her eyes crinkled in a way that belied the merest hint of insecurity. 

“Yeah. You are pretty amazing on the strip,” Kuvira responded quickly. As an addendum she said, “and pretty cool off the strip too.” A little color rose in her cheeks as she said it. She bumped her shoulder into the Opal. Aware of herself, she looked down at her feet. 

Still smiling, she looked up and caught Guan with a wide smirk forming on his face as he looked directly at her and Opal. Her smile froze and dropped. A bad feeling rose up and replaced the warmth she felt just a couple of seconds ago.

Like the match before, the team did well and started off with a decent lead with Imperial College Ba Sing Se. Jinora, Opal and Kuvira were sharper than usual, helping their squadmates with solid advice. 

The RCU women had a commanding lead that had them eight points ahead as Kuvira hooked up across from Sheng. There was not as much pressure on Kuvira to do well as Jinora would be closing out the match, but it would be better to at least maintain a decent lead for her teammates. 

Sheng did the absolute minimum salute at the beginning of their bout. Kuvira quickly got two clean touches.

Guan immediately called time out and the two chatted at their end of the strip for the full length of the break. When they returned to fencing the Sheng wore a smug look beneath her mask. Her mood had clearly shifted. The next encounter Sheng did a very powerful beat-hit that did not land anywhere near the valid target, but instead nailed Kuvira square in the middle of her fencing mask with a loud “thunk”. It forced Kuvira’s head back and mentally knocked her for a loop. She would not have minded it as much if Sheng had just cleanly hit the open target rather than pulling a stunt like that. It was an aggressive move with no purpose other than to force an opponent off kilter. 

The next encounter Kuvira was ready for Sheng to do something threatening, but instead there was a clean and clear circle parry six with a riposte giving Kuvira her third point of the bout. The looming threat of that mask hit irritated Kuvira. This was not fencing, it was psychological warfare and Sheng was winning. 

There were a few pretty standard encounters for foil where touches landed just off target stopping the action and resetting play. Each time the two competitors finished closer and closer together Kuvira getting more and more frustrated that she could not get the tip to register on target. The more they fenced, the more Sheng forced the distance smaller and smaller on each successive encounter. Kuvira was neither re-opening the distance nor fully able to take advantage of the infighting. Finally the two were so close the referee called “halt” and then said “corp a corp” without awarding any point. It happened again the very next interaction. Kuvira let out a verbal grunt of frustration at the referee’s interruption.

“Time-out!” The call came from RCU’s sideline. Opal stood up and made a “T” with her hands. The referee nodded and then Opal approached Kuvira for the break. Kuvira ripped off her mask and started nervously tapping her feet at the end of the strip, eyes darting around.

“Hey,” the captain began in an undertone putting one hand on Kuvira’s shoulder. She was drawing Kuvira’s attention to her. “Stop staring daggers. Tell me what’s going on with your distance?” She gave a gentle but firm squeeze to Kuvira’s tight shoulder, concern clear on the captain’s face. “I’ve never seen you do this much infighting before.” 

Kuvira fought the desire to complain about the aggressive behavior from her opponent, remembering what Opal told her earlier about being calm on the strip.

It was the most frustrating and infuriating encounter in her life. The way that Sheng was treating her was just like all of those years ago at the club. Sheng had matured as a fencer, but not as a person. Kuvira took a deep breath. “That hit to the mask pissed me off is all. I’ll fix it,” she said through gritted teeth. 

Opal grabbed Kuvira’s free hand to drive home her point. “Try to open the distance and reduce your attacks back down to no more than two actions.” Kuvira merely nodded as Opal squeezed her hand. 

“Fencers?” The referee interrupted before Opal could say more.

The encounter began with an only vaguely calmer Kuvira reducing her attacks to be less complicated and backing away quickly when two failed. Before she could begin a third attempt Sheng flesched at a very close distance. As she passed she very purposely struck Kuvira with the bell guard smashing it hard into her hip bone. The referee failed to see the physical blow the way the women were positioned. As their paths crossed on their way back to their respective on guard lines Sheng muttered “ _dyke_ ” for only Kuvira to hear. 

Suddenly all she could hear was the blood rushing in her ears. Her vision narrowed. Nostrils flared. A sense of dread crawled up her neck. 

The hit to the mask had been to get her attention. The blow to her hip had been a purposeful attack. The verbal insult had just been a low blow, but it hit Kuvira unusually hard. She was not shaken by the meaning of the word, it was the bite and vile that came with it that rattled her.

She felt exposed that out of everyone it was her old enemies who read her emotions as openly as a book. Her feeling for Opal was so new even to herself. It was something so pure and delicate that all she had wanted to do was to protect and let it grow without anyone to bowl in and screw it up.

She turned around and her focus settled back onto Sheng. 

Sheng was trying to ruin everything she cared about in her life. _Again_.

“Fence!”

They clashed again. This time Kuvira used the corp a crop to do an up angle touch to Sheng’s mask that was right where the mesh met the bib at Sheng’s throat. She heard the beep of the machine go off and the referee calling halt, but she did not stop pushing upwards. The blade bent at an extreme enough angle that the guard thudded heavily into Sheng’s breast protector. 

There was a repeated “HALT” from the referee. Sheng was forced to stagger back with the pressure of the tip and guard against her. Kuvira slowly pulled out of her lunge and could vaguely hear her own name being called by her teammates. 

The scoring machine had begun a staccato repeat beep. She looked down and saw how the hit had left her weapon with a hideous bend. At its peak there was a piece of copper protruding from the groove on the blade. The wire running along the weapon had snapped under the excessive tension of the hit. She would need to get a new weapon to keep fencing.

She turned to the refere about to ask for a moment to replace the broken weapon when Kuvira watched him reach into his pocket. She had been expecting a card for the corp a corps, but surely he had grabbed the wrong one. 

“Black card,” said the referee with an air of finality. 

Kuvira pulled off her mask in a daze, trying to register what had happened. 

She blinked to see if she imagined it all.

No. It was indeed a black card held high in the referee’s hand.

She had been banished from the event.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I personally am excited that we are leaving the bubbly fun land because I am always all for the angst... - ItchyOuchyZ
> 
> Tell us how you feel after this chapter!


	12. Forfeit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuvira dealing with the consequences of her Black Card.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are just gonna go ahead and make a promise that we might not able to keep: we will try to post the next chapter, AKA the (American) Thanksgiving chapter before Thanksgiving.... We'll see how it goes...
> 
> And please try to stay safe out there next week. Burrow in and read some smut (that we are unfortunately lacking here, I know) or something. Don't travel if you don't have to!

Her heart beat loudly in her ears. Her anger quickly faded into terror as realization dawned on her. Kuvira had been goaded into an attack that had the real potential of giving someone a very serious injury. She had crossed the boundary from sport into violence.

Kuvira unhooked herself from the scoring machine with tremulous fingers. Tunnel vision carried her from the strip straight to the changing room. Her broken weapon abandoned on the strip.

She had FUCKED UP.

Opal was calling her name from somewhere behind her, but she didn’t turn around or stop. She made her way to a bench in the far corner and plopped down. Her fencing mask dropped on the floor with a dull thud. She ground the heels of her palms into her forehead, trying to drive the numbness out of her face, and her brain.

Getting a black card meant she was banished from the event. The bout she was in would be an automatic forfeit. Their opponent, ICB, would get 7 points bringing the score to 40 to 37 with only one five-point bout left in the match. Kuvira’s rage might have cost her team’s win, their standings, and her own future.

“What were you thinking?” The door swung open and Opal stormed into the changing room.

Kuvira could not answer the question.

“Hey…” Opal’s voice was softer and closer. Kuvira was about to tell Opal to go away when the door opened again.

Kuvira looked up to see Guan standing at the doorway, “I knew you didn’t have it in you to finish a simple bout.” His smile was wider than a Jack-O-Lanterns. “Oh well, better luck next time little Orphan Annie.” Kuvira could feel her urge to kill boiling again. She has even less to lose now. But this time Opal stepped between them.

“Hey, you!” exclaimed Opal one hand on her hip the other pointing dangerously. “I know the referee is fucking blind for not having booted Sheng for bell guarding Kuvira first. We all know what game you are playing and you ain’t shit so back the FUCK UP and leave us alone!” The finger pointed directly between Guan’s beady eyes. Her own green eyes were cold and unwavering.

Guan got the message. He gave a disdainful twitch of a smile then left the room.

Kuvira had neither seen Opal use anything close to such colorful language before nor had she been so openly angry at someone.

Opal watched to make sure Guan disappeared out of view. Slowly, releasing some of the tension in her arms she turned around to face Kuvira again. She asked in a way that made it seem less like an accusation and more of a hypothetical “what’s gotten into you?” 

But that was the last thing Kuvira wanted, sympathy and understanding. She had fucked up by hitting Sheng. All because of her stupid, uncontrollable impulses. How dare she let childhood bullies get the best of her? And her teammates were there to witness it. Why did she have to go and fuck up even the simplest of tasks? Just score points and get on with the bout.

Her adrenaline was wearing off. All of the pain she had been ignoring was coming to the forefront. As the pain increased her anger subsided into embarrassment and shame.

“What do you want me to say?” Kuvira finally spoke. She looked up at Opal. Her eyes red, voice coarse, but there were no tears.

It was sinking in that she very well might have just ruined all the good things that she had worked so hard for in her life. That she betrayed everyone who had trusted her. Seeing Opal dissolved her last thread of rationality. 

One of the best things in her life was the person standing right in front of her and she could not even look at her. 

“Stop pretending you care. Just fuck off.”

As soon as the last syllabus left her lips, Kuvira’s vision blurred with a burn in her eyes, chest heaving. Her upper lip tingled and there was a quiver growing in her chin. She wanted to run again. But there was nowhere else to go.

She wiped the tears from her eyes and blinked a few times. She was alone in the room again.

\---

Somehow she had made it from campus to the hotel room she shared with Korra before anyone else from the team made it back. When Korra returned around midnight, Kuvira pretended to be asleep. Luckily her friend merely changed for bed and went to sleep. 

Kuvira woke with a throbbing headache. It was probably from skipping dinner and not even drinking anything after her crying session in the locker room. The morning sun was slipping between the cracks in the curtain and making her squint. Kuvira heard the sound of running water from the bathroom. She quickly got up and started gathering all her things into her duffel bag. Maybe if she was fast enough she could get fully packed and gone from the room before Korra came out of her shower.

“So I was thinking we need to find some tunes or podcasts for the ride to my parents’. I love you both to death but I cannot bear to talk with you guys for 7 hours straight.” Korra’s voice arrived before herself did. She was drying her hair with a towel as she spoke.

Too late to dash out of the room, Kuvira zipped up her bag, “I wasn’t sure if you still wanted me to come.”

“What? Why? It was all planned out”

“Cuz what happened. I hurt the whole team.”

Korra fell to silence. She looked past Kuvira out the window as she sat at the foot of her bed, “you remember how we became friends in the first place?”

“Because you took pity on me for not being able to have the same fencing career as you?”

Korra flinched at her harsh wording. “That’s so far from the truth.” She said firmly. She looked back out the window again. “Guess I see a lot of myself in you.”

Kuvira’s eyes widened. “We are nothing alike. You would never do anything like that to repay the people who cared about you. You wouldn’t even have left fencing in the first place.”

“We’re both fierce and determined to succeed. Sometimes we do things without thinking them through, driven forward blindly by something… I don’t even know,” trailed off Korra who seemed a bit lost. Then she gave a deep sigh. 

After a moment with Kuvira needlessly readjusting a strap on her bag Korra put a hand on her shoulder. “All I am saying is this, I understand. It’s easier than it seems to lose focus on the strip and forget why we are here.”

Kuvira contemplated Korra’s words.

“We all need something to fight **_for_ ** not just something to fight **_against_ **.” Korra retracted her hand and straightened up. She squared her jaw, “whatever fate coach has in store - it won’t stop us from being friends.” She reached out for a friendly hug. Kuvira allowed it, ignoring the vague sensation of wanting to cry again.

But Korra’s forgiveness turned out to be the easiest to gain back. Kuvira had her hood pulled up and earbuds already blaring as she boarded the bus back to Republic City. One hand holding up her phone like a shield from the cold stares of her teammates, she walked down the narrow aisle.

A couple of rows down she saw Opal and quickly averted her gaze. She quickened her pace. When she passed Opal, their eyes met for a brief second that ended with Opal looking away first. Kuvira felt something lodged at her throat but did not stop.

Before she reached the back of the bus she was stopped again, this time by Asami. The tall woman was putting her bags in the overhead rack. Next to her was Korra’s blue bag, keeping its owner’s seat. Kuvira removed the earbud again and tried to keep her face neutral.

The raven haired epeeist turned to her fully and said, “Hey, I have your blade.” 

It was not hard to connect the dots. Kuvira followed Asami’s eyes and looked back at Opal. The team Captain must have collected her bent-out-of-shape weapon at the regional and handed it to the team armorer. “I didn’t have time to fix it up last night. I’ll take it home to rewire it and fix the bend. I’ll text you when it’s ready?”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks.” Kuvira responded in a non-committal tone as she popped her earbuds back in. _Why bother replacing something I probably won't be using again._ Maybe one of her teammates would get to use it at the next competition. 

Kuvira sat down at the far corner of the bus by the window. Far away from everyone. The whole ride back she was quiet, seemingly engrossed by the passing scenery.

\---

Kuvira felt really unsettled to be here during the day time. She was never at the gym in the morning because all the practices were late afternoon or evening. She looked at the small office Tenzin occupied. The door was closed but the light leaked out of the seams. Muffled voices could be heard. Apparently Tenzin was meeting someone before her.

It had been two days since the black card at the regional. Because of her black-card forfeit during the bout against ICB, Jinora tried her best and got 6 points. It still was not enough to stop ICB taking the victory with a close 45-43. It was all Kuvira’s fault. They were in the lead before she messed up and the win had been practically in their pocket.

Kuvira squeezed her eyes shut as the scene replayed in her head. It was self torture at this point. Every time she thought of it, she felt so ashamed and just wanted to disappear into thin air never to be seen again. She had never regretted anything so much before in her life that she just wished time could turn back. Back to when she was just sitting and talking with Opal and none of her screw up had happened.

Kuvira looked over at the office ominously. No one from the team besides Korra had talked to her since. She figured the odds were more than likely that she would be booted off the team. At the thought, the door to the office opened.

Stepping out of the office was, Kuvira’s eyes widened, Opal. The team captain was not surprised to see her instead, her face was solemn.

They looked at each other for a moment. Their last interaction resounded in her ears. Coach must have wanted to hear the story from all sides. Her heart sank as if it was weighed down by lead. With the things she spat at Opal, Kuvira could not expect a worse outcome from her meeting with Tenzin.

“You’re already here. Come in.” Tenzin beckoned at Kuvira at his desk.

She stood up from the chair. On her way into the office, she passed Opal, who seemed to want to say something but thought better of it.

She steeled herself. She had nothing to lose now. So she straightened up her spine and walked in. The door closed with an ominous click behind her.

Tenzin leaned forward in his chair to steeple his hands together with elbows on the desk. He paused a moment clearly processing some more of whatever conversation he and an Opal had before she came in. 

“Have a seat, please Kuvira,” Tenzin indicated with a nod of his head. She reluctantly did so. “We’ve all seen how much progress you have made since you joined the team. You certainly have spirit and will I am not used to seeing in a collegiate setting.”

“However,” he continued palms up in slight supplication, “I was not there to see the incident that earned you the Black Card.” Kuvira could hear his voice capitalizing the last few words. “From what I understand from the referee and other observers you purposely hit that young woman as hard as you could.” He stopped here and looked to Kuvira to see what she would do. The fencer sat there silently. A furrow grew on her brow and the muscles in her jaw tightened. She had decided before walking in the office that she would not argue with Tenzin to defend herself. She knew what she did and no one needed to know the reason behind it, the things Sheng had said to rile her up.

“Now, normally such actions would compel me to simply expel you from the team,” the coach said, placing his palms on the table. Kuvira’s eyebrows shot up at the statement. It sounded like things were headed towards a reprieve. “Opal told me of the circumstances leading up to the,” he struggled to find the right word and settled on “incident. It sounds like there were mitigating circumstances that should be taken into account. Your behavior was still unacceptable and an example of poor sportsmanship for a sport that prides itself on chivalry. Consider yourself on probation.”

  
  


\---

Kuvira turned into a neat street with modern houses lined up along each side. The fit people jogging along in fancy leggings and shoes inferred it was a nicer part of town. There were only a handful of cars parked on the wide street with an unusually wide road verge. The sidewalks were neat and even without any misplacement by tree roots. It was not far from the campus, but certainly was not for the average students or tenured professor. 

Her phone GPS prompted her that she would reach her destination in a few hundred feet and it would be on the right. She pulled over to the curb and parked her truck.

Asami’s home was a modern design. It was a single story structure with clean lines of smooth stucco separated by dark wood paneling. Large windows broke up the stark simplistic style of the front face. There were stone columns leading up to the covered entrance with a dark shingle roof that was partially covered by solar panels.

Kuvira approached the front door. She studied the entry way for a bit and pressed the digital ringer as she positioned herself directly in front of the tiny camera on top. She waited patiently but no response came.

She frowned and tried again, leaning in to listen if any footsteps were approaching but it was all quiet except for some power tools noises somewhere off to one side of the house nearer the long driveway. The sound reverberated from some distance away.

Kuvira looked around considering her options. She pulled her phone free from her jeans’ pocket and double checked the time. Asami had said she should pick up her foil from her home at 10am. Kuvira pressed the call button from the text messenger. She made her way towards the noises coming from along the driveway. 

No phone answer either. 

This was not the first of the red flags Kuvira was seeing from Asami. Something was off with the young engineer. She was never late and never blew people off. For the handful of times they communicated outside of team affairs, Asami was always responsive and courteous when texted or called. Whereas in the past few days, there were several aborted attempts to try and meet Asami on campus. 

Kuvira was now concerned that she had been blown off again or that Asami had sent her the wrong address.

As she was deciding if she should bother leaving a voicemail she considered all of the awkward sitcom situations that might be an alternative explanation for Asami being unusually distracted. Maybe she should call Korra and see if they had gone on an impulsive date or enjoying a particularly nice Sunday morning.

When Kuvira reached the driveway and rounded the corner to face the garage the tinkering noises became more loud and clear. Correction, it was two garages. An exceptionally tall garage large enough for an RV was alongside a more normal two car garage. Just inside the RV garage was a shiny new SUV with its hood and doors wide open. In one bay of the normal garage were four very distinct motorcycles parked neatly. One near a workbench was covered in an old oilcloth. 

Kuivra approached the SUV that was emitting tool noises and the occasional low swearing. As she got closer she noticed the passenger seat was sitting on a furniture blanket outside of the car next to parts from the dashboard. Cables and wires snaked out of various spots and into a laptop on the nearby workbench. Kuvira recognized the car undergoing neurological surgery was the newest model IXA of the _Sato Motor Company_.

Following the sound of the intensifying swearing, Kuvira found the legs and body of the engineer with the rest supposedly somewhere in the footwell.

“Hey, sorry for just barging in,” said the foilist politely trying to make her presence known. There was the small recognizable “thunk” of a screwdriver hitting floor matt before Asami withdrew herself from the car as quickly as possible. Kuvira was surprised to see her without any make-up and dark bags under her eyes.

“I thought you can only service those cars at the dealership?” Kuvira nodded to the SUV. From the advertisements she had seen and the hype on social media, there must be a number of violated warranties for taking apart the expensive self-driving car. 

Asami looked back at the car’s carcass and ran her fingers through her long black hair. She managed to squeeze her face into a weak smile. “Guess there are some exceptions when it comes to the CEO’s daughter.” She was holding some sort of tiny electric part gingerly in her other palm.

“Oh, I guess I didn’t realize you were _that_ Sato.”

Apparently used to this reaction from people, the young engineer only smiled politely and checked the time on her wrist watch, “sorry I lost track of time.”

Asami led the foilist to the other side of the garage where a different workbench was set up. Neatly organized on the surface were repair tools specific to fencing. Asami grabbed the foil laying on the workbench by the blade. She held it out grip first to Kuvira who recognized it as her weapon immediately. It had her green insulator pad on the inside of the guard.

“I bent the guard back into shape but I would recommend getting a replacement at some point. I rewired it using a German tip with a new spring1.”

Kuvira was grateful. She slid her hand into the familiar pistol grip. It was somewhat comforting to feel the familiar weight. “Thanks a lot. I honestly thought I wouldn’t need it again.”

Asami leaned against the workbench and looked at Kuvira curiously. “Well, I am glad you got to stay. So is Korra.”

“Well everyone else on the team still hates me.” Kuvira compulsively tested the tip of the weapon on the floor. She compressed it several times making the spring do its job. “Opal hasn’t talked to me for days,” she said with a hint of melancholy.

“She was… pretty upset that night. After the match.” Opal and Asami had shared a room back at the regional.

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Kuvira did not want to hear about the aftermath of her black card and lashing out. “I would have been upset with me, too.”

Asami studied her carefully but did not say anything.

“Maybe it was the wrong thing to do. Maybe Coach shouldn’t have let me remain on the team.” Kuvira had been ruminating on that previously unvoiced thought. It had come to her after an almost unbearable practice that was filled with passive aggression from other teammates and silence from Opal. 

Kuvira looked up at Asami. Their eyes met. The epeeist chuckled bitterly. 

"The law of unintended consequences," Asami said softly at first. She was looking down at something in her hand. Kuvira followed her gaze to see the microchip from the car in her palm. "We don't know sometimes what the ramifications of our actions will be," she looked up suddenly into Kuvira's green eyes, her face contorted to an unreadable expression. "I know you did what you felt you needed to do to, well maybe not survive, but to be satisfied. I'm sure for a split second you felt completely vindicated hitting that girl, but now you have to pay the price. 

"It may hurt for a while, and you have alienated some people for a bit, but it has forced some kind of change.” There was a long pause as both women contemplated the thought. Asami continued, “next time you fence at a competition more eyes will be on you. Some will expect you to fail. But that is not going to hold you back." Asami clenched her hand burying the chip in her fist.

  
  


\---

At the next practice, the last before Thanksgiving, Kuvira arrived early as usual, hoping to catch Opal and talk. Maybe to apologize. She did not know how long she could take not talking to the other fencer.

Instead of her captain she found only Jinora and Kai. They were doing all of the usual pre-practice tasks that were normally Opal’s.

Jinora only shot her a cold stare when she stepped into the open area. Now her bald head was covered in peach-fuzz. Kai gave her a more neutral greeting.

“Where is Opal?”

“She’s running late and asked us to cover for her.”

Kuvira nodded absentmindedly. She couldn’t help but think that Opal was trying to avoid her.

Things did not progress much better from there. Throughout the practice she received dirty looks from all directions. Her foil squad was even more silent than usual with another grueling session under Lin.

“Opal!” It was not until practice was over and everyone was putting everything away that Kuvira finally caught Opal in the locker room.

Opal only turned her head to look at her as she continued to put her gear back into her locker. 

“Hey,” Kuvira cleared her throat, “can we talk?”

“My aunt is waiting for me. What’s up?” Her tone was level and business-like.

“Oh. Maybe I should have said it sooner but I just want to let you know that I appreciate you vouching for me. So, thank you.”

Opal paused what she was doing and turned her full attention to her squadmate. She closed the locker and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Look, I know you are perfectly capable of beating someone like Sheng. But you didn’t.” Opal let the words sink in. “To ditch everyone’s effort like that? The whole team lost because of you,” there was the merest break as she took in a breath. “And that’s pretty unforgivable.”

Kuvira closed her eyes. She agreed with every word Opal had said. She opened her mouth. She needed to apologize for what she said to Opal after her banishment but no words came out. This was not how Kuvira imagined this conversation would go.

“All that being said,” Opal shifted her weight, “Fencing is a sport. I don’t care what your history was, who deserves what payback or whatever, I just want to win. I need _us_ to win. And to win, you need to get rid of whatever demon is still haunting you because it doesn’t matter. Do you understand?” Her eyes bore into Kuvira’s. “May the better fencer win on the piste.”

Kuvira froze on the spot. That was not what she expected to hear from the team captain. It sounded EXACTLY like something **_a_ ** team captain would say but that was not the Opal she was prepared to face before walking into the locker room. The Opal that followed her after her expulsion, defended her in front of her bully and their head coach surely would not just tell her to shut everything down. A wave of strange panic swarmed her. Kuvira pushed that Opal away.

“Opal.” A stern voice sounded at the doorway. Lin was standing there. “Time to go.”

Opal started walking towards her aunt. She looked back at Kuvira one more time, “Happy Thanksgiving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHA! FOOTNOTE!
> 
> 1 Who cares about tips on weapons? Fencers do. Everyone starts with French because they are cheaper and moves onto to German if they decide to “spring” for the extra cost. The joke is, speaking as an experienced armorer, they are both a PIA. This footnote was brought to you since we haven’t had one in a while!


	13. The Longest Lunge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which views are enjoyed, snow cools hot temperatures and yet fans other flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck (pardon my language), we did not think we would be able to churn this out in time but WE DID!  
> Happy Turkey Day to those of you in the US. BE SAFE wherever you find yourself this year. Enjoy this quiet reading opportunity if you need a peaceful moment to avoid crazy family! This is also a balm for those who want some company while staying home alone without family  
> Okay, enough about that. Enjoy the chapter and check out another SP's art!

The Gas-N-Go was quiet, save for their presence. The Volvo fit right in with the mid-eighties aesthetic. 

“Please don’t put on the noise,” Korra begged Kuvira as the trio returned to the car. They were piling in after securing snacks for the road.

Kuvira rolled her eyes. “I only listen to those before matches.”

“What noise?” Asami slid into the driver’s seat, putting her steaming hot drink into the cup holder.

“She meant Schoenberg1.”

“Ah.” Asami had a look of understanding. “Modernism certainly isn’t for everyone.”

“I thought the non-music music could help me break the tempo on the strip.”

“Does it work?”

Kuvira shrugged. “Not when you get booted.”

Now it was Asami's turn to roll her eyes, “the self deprecating humor stopped being funny a while ago, you know?”

Classic rock played through the speaker. Asami put the car in drive and they set off again on their trip. “Have you been to the Indigenous Crafts Museum up there, Korra?”

“Huh? No.” Korras was unusually silent for a moment. “Whenever I am home we have family time. I’ve never had much time to do that kind of stuff because of competitions and school.” 

“Do you think maybe we can sneak out for a few hours and visit? Will your family mind?” asked Asami hopefully. The engineer had been in an elevated mood since they picked her up this morning, even though she still looks exhausted. Kuvira watches her taking a sip of her hot coffee while keeping her eyes on the road. She was wondering if Asami had put that SUV back together. 

“Uh, sure, if you want, I guess,” Korra responded in such a way that Kuvira could practically hear Korra’s slight panic. Kuvira herself was a big fan of museums. When she first came to Republic City after high school, she often went to the city’s Modern Art Museum. With free admission, it was a place that did not make her feel quite alone but also granted peace and quiet at the same time. She could understand Korra not giving museums much thought or energy with her busy schedule and focus on competitions and training. 

A few hours later and they did another pit-stop. Everyone got out stretched their legs heading to the restroom at a picturesque rest stop.

“Are you okay?” Asami asked Korra not without concern. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Korra squeezed an extremely reluctant smile. Her hands in the pockets of her letterman jacket. There was nothing to cut the cold wind at the rest stop. Asami did not seem convinced and continued on in silence to the sandy brick restrooms.

A few minutes later upon Korra’s return, Kuvira asked “did I say something?” She was leaning against the car, observing Korra carefully. 

The whole morning Korra had been quiet. She only just barely answered the questions tossed at her from Asami and mostly refused to give any reaction to anything Kuvira said. Kuvira had a feeling that her friend was mad at her. She was aware of the awkward situation getting stuck on a trip with Korra and Asami as the third wheel.

Korra shook her head and kept her head down. She kicked a rock. It bounced off the base of a map post. Kuvira sighed and turned to look at the scenery. It was vast and it made her feel lonely. The lush color of the evergreens reminded her of a certain person that, to be honest, had been on her mind all along.

“Hey, do you think this is a terrible mistake?” Korra pulled on the corner of Kuvira’s jacket, causing her to turn abruptly.

“What is? Going to your parents?” Kuvira was taken aback and did not know what her friend was asking about. 

Korra took a step back, “well, yeah, and also, just, going out with her.” Her head tilted ever so slightly at the direction of where Asami was deciding what to get at the vending machines. 

“What? Where is this coming from all of a sudden?” Kuvira stopped leaning against the car and indicated that Korra should join her in stretching their legs some more. She headed to the edge of the parking lot to take in more of the view before they had to get back in the car. The wind was gusting, pushing around the trails of her braid.

As they walked Korra nervously rubbed her neck. “You know, I don’t know anything about _postmodernism_ .” She looked away. “I never really went to an art museum, either. Or read books like, I don’t know, _War and Peace._ ”

Kuvira had never seen her friend this insecure before. Surely she had been shy ever since Asami appeared in her life, but she never reflected so hard back on herself. Now she understood why Korra had seemed to be mad at her: Korra was jealous.

“Well, for one, _War and Peace_ could be more fun than you think2.” She started lightly, gaining her an exacerbated sigh. “Korra, you are arguably the biggest star of the whole school. Cover of _Fencing Today_? Reigning NCAA champion? Youth Circuit prodigy?” She stopped walking, causing Korra to turn and look at her. “I know you are probably used to people saying these things as you were growing up, but c’mon.” Kuvira never really expressed her admiration for her friend but there was no better time than now. 

Korra looked a little awkward with the slew of compliments. Her hand shot up to the back of her neck again. They both approached the guard rail.

“If you are a dumb jock, you are THE dumb jock.” Kuvira bumped Korra’s shoulder. “Lighten up and enjoy the view.” 

And they did enjoy the view for a moment. Distant hills were capped with snow and lower elevations still had dark trees just visible beyond rolling hills. 

Kuvira considered what Korra had said about them being alike. As they stood in the cold wind she also realized she had always looked at Korra whenever she tried to imagine her path and who she might have become if she had never left fencing. It was unthinkable to her that Korra could feel an ounce of insecurity when she had every card in her favor. And since they became friends whenever Kuvira thought of ‘confidence’ it had become synonymous to Korra. Kuvira just couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that Korra was displaying so much doubt.

“You guys ready to go?” Asami called out. 

The duo turned and faced each other a moment before walking back to the car. 

During the rest of the ride Kuvira made an effort to steer the conversation towards topics Korra could enjoy more freely. She knew that her friend was in need of an ego boost. Talking with Asami was daunting even for Kuvira sometimes as the epeeist had so many more opportunities in her life. Kuvira and Korra were such small town hicks in comparison. 

As they traveled even closer to the town where Korra’s parents lived, Kuvira took in the wider countryside. Cement, brick, stone and steel were where Kuvira had spent much of her life. The further they got from Republic City and the University the lighter Kuvira felt. Getting some space from her studies and from fencing drama might just be what she needed. She could return to being Sysiphus when they headed back to the city. But despite cheering Korra up and somewhat infected by the holiday mood on their trip, Kuvira still could not shake off the emptiness and detachment she felt. It was as if she was folding inwards into smaller and smaller pieces, collapsing into a tiny heavy wad of blank paper.

The snow had begun falling a few days prior to their arrival and blanketed the ground in several feet. Asami’s skill at handling the Volvo with chains was impressive as they made the final approach to the house. Pine trees crowded the road, but Korra gave clear directions including where road conditions were rough so much of the guesswork was taken out of the last parts of the drive.

They rounded a long curve and suddenly the house came into view. Nestled in the trees it was a low two story with a gambrel roof. A stone fireplace was already alight with white smoke escaping the chimney. Wood paneled walls gave it a sort of log-cabin feel. A short drive led to a garage attached by a breezeway.

As they hit the top of the drive Korra pressed the garage door opener and instructed Asami to back right into the garage. Before they had even finished pulling in Tonraq and Senna came out to welcome them with open arms.

“Grab your things and join us inside ladies,” motioned Senna after giving them all warm hugs. Kuvira could easily see how similar the lines of and shape of Korra’s face mirrored her mothers. Tonraq was already opening the trunk of the Volvo and grabbing bags by the time she made it back there.

“We’ve got you all spread around the house so you can have some privacy. Korra you are on the couch in the den and Asami has your old room. Kuvira, you get the air mattress in Senna’s craft room, I’m afraid,” he said jovially, leading them all through the breezeway to the house. 

The newcomers were shown their designated sleeping quarters so they could drop their bags and get a proper tour of the house. It was cozy and warm by the fire where they eventually settled with tea and hot chocolate. An hour later they had a light dinner and prepared for bed exhausted from their long car ride.

On Thanksgiving day the smells beginning to waft from the kitchen made everyone’s mouths water. They had enjoyed a light breakfast of sweet filled crepes, but the turkey was in the oven and cooking nicely. Any time Kuvira had tried to help in the kitchen Korra’s mom shooed her out with a different task. 

Eventually she settled on a game of chess to keep Tonraq entertained while he waited for the turkey to finish cooking. Kuvira only knew the piece movements and some basic openings. She had absolutely no fight during the mid-game after Tonraq forced her to choose between sacrificing her queen and her only remaining bishop. She lost pretty quickly after that. The whole game took no more than half an hour.

She returned once again to the kitchen to offer help out of the usual compulsion. There was always that ting of discomfort that comes from being a guest under someone else’s roof. 

“No, everything is almost ready. Why don’t you go help Korra and Asami with whatever they are doing out there in the snow?” Insisted Senna the fourth time, albeit calmly, taking off her oven mitt.

Kuvira stepped outside into the brisk winter air. She was glad of the warm beanie and cotton scarf tied around her neck. She was not used to such sharp temperatures or the thin high-altitude air. Her puffy jacket was layered over thermals and a long sleeved shirt and her hastily purchased second hand ski-pants were doing a great job keeping out the cold. 

Rounding the corner of the house she found Korra and Asami hard at work. Snow shovels were being used to form bricks into a rudimentary structure. Clearly Asami was using her engineering skills, but it was Korra’s sense of snow that was making the project possible. 

“You know you could have stuck with something simple like a snowman,” said Kuvira with a hefty tone of sarcasm.

“She wanted an Ice Palace, so we settled on an igloo,” replied Korra lifting a slab into place at waist height. She was working with thin gloves and still sporting her letterman jacket. Somehow Korra was also wearing jeans without any hint of thermal pants impeding her movement underneath. 

“Come on and get helping. We want to get a lot closer to finishing before Tonraq carves the bird,” said Asami crunching snow into compact brick. Her outfit looked far warmer than Korra’s. A braid poked out beneath a fur lined hat with a matching fur lined peacoat. She wore slim winter pants tucked into padded boots. She looked to Kuvira like she had just walked out of a winter fashion catalog.

“Speaking of whom, you dad murdered me on the chess board.”

“Oh, did he?” Korra let out a laugh. “He is very good at picking opponents he knows he can steamroll. Asami will avenge you tomorrow, right?”

“I’m not so sure. I haven’t touched chess since high school. I’ll do my best though,” said Asami, still wielding the shovel.

After another hour of work and the sun much closer to the western horizon, Korra’s father called them in. “You ladies can always continue making the igloo tomorrow. Let’s go enjoy some light supper.” He said ‘light’ at an octave lower than the rest of the sentence. 

As Tonraq carved their bird Korra showed around a photo of the turkey that Mako and Bolin’s family was consuming. It took up a large percentage of their dining table. “I think we can do better than that,” said Tonraq a little huffily as he finished putting slices onto a serving plate. 

“Dad they have like thirty people in their family. You are only feeding five,” said Korra snapping a few pictures of her own to share. There were more than enough bird and sides to feed the group easily. The big hit was the stuffing. Moist from the juices of the turkey the brown chunks went perfectly with the light salad and the bacon brussel sprouts. 

“Thank you so much for having me over,” said Kuvira formally to Korra’s parents for the umpteenth time that weekend. 

“Me, too” added Asami.

This was the first Thanksgiving that Kuvira felt did not need to be on her best behavior or that felt forced. Various foster families had of course cooked meals, but the air was always charged with trouble on the horizon if one foot was set out of line, or an overcompensating pity that left the food tasting bitter than it should have.

“Did you call your father today since you are here with us, Asami?” Senna’s question was innocent enough, but Asami’s eyes dropped to her plate and paused in their cutting of a potato.

“He’s in a completely different time zone. No point in calling right now, I’d just wake him up.” The temperature of her tone had dropped several degrees. Asami slowly resumed cutting her potato thoughtfully. It was a sharp contrast with the bubbly mood she had been in since the trip began. For some reason she was unhappy with her father, but in such a subtle way that only Korra and Kuvira could pick up the signals. Now was not the time to bring it up and dive in further, but it would have to be revisited when Korra’s parents were not around.

“Quite the business he is running. I’m sure he is really busy with the preparation for the launch of that new electric autonomous model. It is a pretty sexy looking SUV, not as sexy as my Volvo, mind, but a good looking car” said Tonroq with a wink. 

“MY Volvo.” Korra thumbed to herself and gave her dad a faux warning glare. “That car is a classic, I will have you know! You just can't get as many people and fencing bags as comfortably into any other hatchback or SUV,” said Korra in defence of the blue whale in the nearby garage.

“I know that the time of autonomous cars is upon us, but I prefer to have full control when I’m driving. Maybe it was the way I was raised around vehicles.” Everyone was stuffing themselves as though winter might never end.

“That‘s true,” mumbled Korra around a mouth full of sprouts. She swallowed and continued “she insisted on driving us here and probably will not let either of us do any of the driving back.” Kuvira was trying very hard to restrain from using retorts about Asami wanting to do all of the driving in Korra’s relationship as well.

  
  


\---

After a long day of socializing, Kuvira was mentally exhausted and just wanted to be alone. When the meal had ended things were cleared up and packed into containers into the fridge. Kuvira took a mug of hot tea and retreated into Senna’s craft room away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the house. It was not that Korra’s parents were unfriendly or anything, she had just hit her limit of careful conversations that avoided the topic of her upbringing and her recent slip at the tournament. Clearly Korra had warned her parents about her and everyone was considerate, which kind of made things worse for her in a way. She just needed some time to be alone.

Without turning on the lights, Kuvira bypassed her air mattress and flopped onto the easy chair at one end of the room near the windows. The windowpanes were ringed with frost but still providing a nice view overlooking the valley. The sky was clear and the mostly full moon glittered off of the snow hanging on trees and laying in open clearings. Leaning forward a bit Kuvira could see smoke rising from various spots hidden by pines. Some smoke was paired with yellow lights giving off a soft glow. 

Around her was the evidence of the love and warmth of Korra’s folks. Senna’s space had art supplies in neat little arrangements. One table was covered in paint stained mugs and palettes. A small watercolor was leaning against a folded up easel case. Another station was littered with sawdust and woodworking tools. Some of Korra’s little animals were resting in a low cardboard box nearby.

Kuvira took a sip of her tea and pulled a blanket over her legs settling in comfortably. The tryptophan working its way through her system making her drowsy. She closed her eyes, trying to fight off the thought of getting properly ready for bed.

A few minutes and half a mug later, her phone buzzed in her pocket. It had pulled her out of her quiet space. Digging through the folds of material she freed the phone and stared blankly at the caller ID for a second trying to process the name. She answered the call and pressed the phone to her ear slowly.

“Hey,” 

“ _Hey_.” 

A brief pause as though Opal was surprised not to have reached the voice message system. 

“ _How are you doing? How are you finding Korra’s parents?_ ” It was an awkward recovery but Kuvira already felt the tension in her body loosening.

“They’re, uh, really nice. Korra’s mom gave us really soft towels,” was all that Kuvira could find to say in a hurry. She had no idea why she would say that. She could hear Opal snicker on the other end of the line. 

“ _Yeah? Are soft towels the way to your heart?_ ” 

“Well, yeah. I could crawl into their linen cupboard and curl up forever.” 

“ _Sounds cozy. Things here have been a little tense since Mom decided to go vegan this year. We’ve had Thanksgiving Cauliflower and Tofurky._ ”

Kuvira pulled a small gagging face even though Opal could not see it. “That sounds…”

“ _Disgusting? Yeah._ ” Opal snickered lightly again, “ _Actually it wasn’t that bad, I just really miss turkey grease soaked stuffing._ ”

“I’ve heard stuffing cooked in an actual turkey is all the rage,” Kuvira responded with a smile in her voice. This was the first proper Thanksgiving she had been to since she turned eighteen. She had never developed any attachment to a family recipe or anything.

Kuvira’s comment did not really leave room for more conversation. The other end of the line fell silent. It was great hearing Opal’s voice, let alone making jokes. She did not mean to turn it awkward so quickly.

“I’m sorry -”

_“I wanted to call -”_

They both began at the same time before they both stopped.

A pause.

“You go first,” 

_“Go ahead.”_

Their timing was impeccable and Kuvira could not resist chuckling aloud. 

Finally Opal decided to break the rhythm. “ _I wanted to call you because…because I know we left things on a bad note last time we talked._ ” She took a breath before continuing, “ _And you know, before that._ ” 

Kuvira did not answer. She did not really know how. It had been two weeks since the disastrous regional fall-out and three days since Opal crushed her attempt of an apology into the floor after practice.

 _“The truth is… I don’t want to not speak to you.”_ Kuvira tightened her grip on her phone. “ _And I do care.”_ The last couple of words uttered by Opal were so soft they were almost a whisper.

“I know.” Kuvira answered quietly. “I’m sorry I said that. And I’m sorry for being an asshole at the tournament.” 

“ _I’m sorry, too.”_

They both didn’t speak for a while. Kuvira checked her phone to see if the connection had been dropped.

_“Have you been listening to anything new lately?”_

Sensing that Opal wanted to shift their conversation in a lighter direction, Kuvira relaxed a bit. “You mean I’m not supposed to enjoy the Christmas music that is already ALL around us ALL the time?”

Their conversation fell to easy banter and proper catching up after that. When Kuvira hung up it was past midnight. The house was quiet around her and it was clear that everyone else had gone to bed. She sat for a moment, eyes closed with the phone on her chest, warm from the long use. 

After a few minutes she got up and prepared for bed. Just as she was dozing off in her borrowed bed, her phone pinged again. Opal had shared a playlist link with her. It opened her Spotify displaying the name “Tabula Rasa3 ”. Kuvira pulled out her earbuds and hit play.

  
  


\---

Friday morning Kuvira woke up to sunlight brightening up the room. She felt a lot lighter despite the regrettable amount of food she had packed in the evening before. She decided to go for a run. 

The house was still asleep when she put on her sneakers and her warmest pair of sweatpants. Earbuds in and everything ready she opened the door of the craft room and headed downstairs as quietly as she could. As she walked the small hallway to the front door, she nearly bumped into Korra emerging from her old room. Kuvira quirked an eyebrow at her friend. 

There was a deer-caught-in-the-headlights look on Korra’s face when she turned around to see who she nearly collided with. In Korra’s arms was a blanket clearly taken from the couch where she was supposed to be. 

Instead of saying anything or putting Korra on the spot, Kuvira just let her mouth spread into a knowing smile. She was in quite a good mood. Waggling a finger, Kuvira mouthed “don’t get caught” as she backed out of the front door. Turning to face the golden light from the early morning, she started the playlist and the first song was “ _Gold Twin_ ” by Wild Ones. 

The run was as tough as she anticipated. The cold air brought a sweet taste to her throat even before she hit the trail. The elevation also had her huffing and puffing more than usual and left her glutes burning. But she enjoyed the course nonetheless, blasting through the playlist and feeling the snow crunching under her feet. 

After a few kilometers from the house, Kuvira turned and jogged back. The burn in her lungs felt good and she felt lighter for getting outside and doing some exercise. The burden she had been carrying in her shoulders was lessened from the days before. She returned to the house just as the sunlight reflecting off of the whiteness was becoming too bright.

Korra was in the kitchen mixing some batter under the direction of Senna when Kuvira emerged from her shower and in clean clothes. Asami was making good on her promise and was facing Tonraq across the chessboard. Kuvira sat down with a book on securities law near the fireplace. She settled in and enjoyed the slower pace of a much needed vacation. 

The waffles and leftover turkey brought everyone back to the table for another satisfying meal. After they finished breakfast Asami returned to the chess match with Tonraq. The game went on longer than Kuvira’s had with the engineer neatly trapping Korra’s dad. 

Korra grew increasingly impatient with sitting still. As soon as the game ended she stood up and asked cheerfully “footwork drills?”

A dual and emphatic “no” rose up from her friends.

“Why don’t we just finish the igloo?” Asami said getting up and stretching. 

The trio layered up and returned to the half done snow structure. It had settled a little overnight so the bricks were no longer as well defined. Asami took charge again and Kuvira and Korra happily followed her lead. The construction went quicker with the three of them working together like a well oiled machine. 

Asami took a step back to admire their work as the last snow brick slid into place. “Done. It looks good guys.” Korra and Kuvira high fived then rushed to be the first to crawl into their completed igloo. 

“I win!” There was a bit of jostling for priority, but Kuvira playfully forced Korra out of the way. Kuvira enjoyed the cool interior and the gentle play of blue light in the snow house. It was amazing how young she felt at that moment. The other two followed and the three of them sat for a few moments.

“All of that work has made me thirsty. I’m going to go get some hot chocolate, anyone else want one?” Kuvira stood up, still hunched over in the low structure.

“Yes, please, with two marshmallows, please,” said Korra as she scooted closer to Asami.

“Only one marshmallow for me, please and thank you,” said Asami.

When Kuvria returned a few minutes later with the freshly prepared hot chocolate she made sure to crunch louder than necessary in the snow. “Okay, let me hand you your piping hot cups,'' she said clearly as she approached the entrance to the igloo. She made sure to take a beat before leaning down to hand the mugs to the two inside, Asami’s cheeks were noticeably redder than they had been.

“I don’t think there is any space left for me now with the mugs and everything…” Kuvira was being obnoxious. “I’m just gonna go read a book inside the house.”

She winked at the two and retreated back out of the igloo. 

The rest of the day passed in a more relaxed manner. Since Korra had gotten her extra energy worked off, there were no more hints of doing anything fencing related. Instead she went and worked in the crafts room with her mom on some half finished woodworking projects. Asami joined them inside sitting at the painting station with a sketchbook. She did not show anyone what she had doodled inside.

Meanwhile Kuvira alternated between catching up on school reading and enjoying a Terry Prachett book she had also checked out from the campus library.

\---

The next day was full of sunshine and snow. As their short vacation was winding down, they made their way early to the folk art museum Asami had mentioned on the drive out. The trio wandered the long galleries featuring local and native art. They were not the only ones that had decided to visit the museum. It was a popular destination for people avoiding Black Friday Sales and their families' post meal. Many were there specifically to support Small Business Saturday by perusing in the museum’s gift shop4.

Asami and Korra strolled hand in hand through the galleries, uncaring if anyone would give them looks. Every once in a while one of them would point out a small detail or interesting piece to the other and compare notes and interest. Kuvira did not mind her status as third wheel as she listened to a certain playlist in her earbuds while trailing behind. She did however pause it long enough to buy a CD of music that had been pumped through one of the galleries displaying indigenous instruments. It would annoy Korra on the way back to school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Arnold Schoenberg is a modern composer. He is known for the twelve-tones, which is a mathematical way of arranging the pitches to form music. Hint: it might not sound very musical to your ears.  
> 2 Kuvira prefers the Maude translation because of the original french text.  
> 3 Noun: an absence of preconceived ideas or predetermined goals; a clean slate. Latin, literally ‘scraped tablet’, denoting a tablet with the writing erased.  
> 4 Please, please, please support your local and small business this year. Most offer some kind of shipping or local pickup. It has been incredibly tough for people to continue their businesses during this Pandemic and Black Friday could be the make or break for so many small shops.  
> Also if you are wondering which of the Terry Prachett's Kuvira is reading, this time of year it is always "Hogfather". It includes one of Saberpunk's all time favorite quotes: "HUMAN BEINGS MAKE LIFE SO INTERESTING. DO YOU KNOW, THAT IN A UNIVERSE SO FULL OF WONDERS, THEY HAVE MANAGED TO INVENT BOREDOM." (Death) 
> 
> I just want to thank my wife/co-writer Sabrepunk. She has been shouldering more of the writing in recent chapters as we dived further into the story while I get distracted by my other ideas. And I am not always kind about our creative differences when there is one. ------ItchyOuchyZ
> 
> To my dearest wife, I take whatever writing arguments we have all in stride. The creative process always includes learning and even though we can fight about style, at least my skills are advancing! ----- Sabrepunk


	14. Touche

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which music is exchanged, people are dressed to the nines and lips are touched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SP joked that this chapter had become a music blog while I would argue that all the songs were actually from some of my favorite movie/TV moments. There were quite a few homages, some pretty obvious, others more elusive. Can you spot a few?  
> (A playlist is in the middle of the chapter so feel free to blast it while you read or listen to it afterwards.)
> 
> Per usual, SP's art is at the end of the chapter.
> 
> Other than that, we know it's been a while but work had been crazy. We totally out-did ourselves and this has become our longest chapter yet! So enjoy during this freaky holiday season!  
> This fic has been one of the few good things that had happened to us during 2020 (other than us getting married it was pretty up there). So we are glad to have people share it with us. Thank you and see y'all next year!

Since finals were coming faster than a sabre touch, Kuvira spent almost all of her time on campus. Much of the time she could be found hard at work in the library. When the team captain was not actually in the library studying alongside her, Opal’s music accompanied her. She still managed to put together a playlist for Opal called “ _Ready, Set_ ” despite her busy schedule. It was a happy task as her team captain occupied what little brain space that was not used for schoolwork. 

The only thing keeping Kuvira sane during the last weeks leading up to finals was their music exchange. She took breaks to create playlists that went with each course she was studying. It was a practice that helped her associate certain things with melody or lyrics that worked as a pneumonic. 

Whenever she felt like she perfected another playlist she shared it with Opal. They kept the lists down to about an hour of play and had exchanged about six of these a piece by the time they had each taken their last exam of the semester. It frustrated Kuvira that communication over music was most commonly the extent of their conversations. To be fair most everyone’s attention and focus was on finals, but Kuvira had hoped that they could manage some kind of safe conversation beyond just that.

Instead they tended to end up agreeing to study nearby each other in the library. They had a vaguely steady routine of grabbing books, taking notes and listening to the playlist the other had prepared for the day. Beyond that there was still an air of thick tension that Kuvira was unsure of how to overcome. Kuvira’s life was irrevocably split into before the black card incident and after. Sometimes she felt she was still knee deep in the muck and had no clue how to break out of it to regain some of the camaraderie they had before “The Incident”. It was reassuring to at least be in Opal’s company even if it was not exactly comfortable.

With more time spent on campus, chances increased that some of her teammates would be on campus too. That day Korra and Asami had agreed to grab a quick dinner with Kuvira before all three of them would head to the gym to help Opal set up. Korra and Kuvira both had electronic devices out in front of them as they ate. Asami was running late.

Kuvira looked up to see the tall epeeist in a formal dress suit with high heels and a leather handbag. Across from her Korra almost choked on her food. Kuvira had to admit that Asami already had an unusual gravitas even without that outfit. The look was sophisticated and even more intimidating than Asami’s usual appearance.

“I thought we were going to practice after dinner,” Korra said, recovering herself a little. She stood up to greet her girlfriend. Asami gave Korra a peck on the cheek.

“Oh,” Asami glimpsed at her outfit. “I just came from a meeting. There was no time to change.” Her pencil skirted suit was double breasted and had a fine pinstripe. She unbuttoned the collar on her shirt a few buttons so she could look less serious.

“Meeting with your mentor?”

“No. Just some lawyers.”

“ _Some_ lawyers?” Kuvira was not surprised that someone like Asami would be meeting with lawyers occasionally, but meeting a bunch of lawyers at the same time did not sound normal.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Asami brushed it off. “Just have to check in with them every once in a while because of dad’s work.”

Kuvira took the information in. Asami hadn’t been acting all herself, at least it seemed to her. Meeting with lawyers versus a single entity and needing to appear so formally dressed was odd to say the least. Everytime something involved her father, Asami would clam up a bit and get stiff.

“Eat up. It’s getting cold.” Korra nudged a plate toward Asami. The latter lifted the covering plate. Inside were three fresh tacos straight from the catering truck around the corner. Kuvira could see that one was clearly shrimp and the other two probably tofu or tempeh. Fresh cilantro was peppered across the top with lime sauce. Asami picked up the extra tortillas that were wrapped in tinfoil.

“Want my extra tortillas?” Asami was not even looking at Korra, assuming she would just take it out of habit.

And Korra almost did. Her hand reached out but retracted. “Nah, I am trying to cut the starch.”

“Oh, that’s right. You told me about your diet. I’m sorry.” Asami instantly looked apologetic.

“Since when are you on a diet?” Kuvira had never seen Korra reject food the whole time she had known her.

Korra leaned in a bit, still picking on her clementine, no doubt to make those little lanterns again. “There’s a tournament after the semester. It’s an olympic qualifier. Trying to boost my metabolism so I can stay on top of the bouts. Superfoods for a while to see how well it works for me.” She sounded careful but excited with her goal.

“So that means no more drinking then either?” Kuvira was doubtful that the drinking team antics could be abated that much.

Korra gave her a pained expression, “I‘m afraid not?”

Kuvira gave her an impressed face before checking the time on her watch. “Shit, it’s almost 6:40. I promised we would be there 6:45.”

Asami ate hurriedly. For someone usually so careful about her appearance in public she wolfed the tacos down though she managed to not make a mess at all. The three of them quickly disposed of their plates and headed to the gym.

When the trio arrived they saw Opal across the street talking with someone they were vaguely familiar with. He was wearing green slacks and a knit sweater in green with abstract yellow decorations in an octagonal pattern. There was a ridiculous poofy pompadour that made his figure appear even slimmer than it was. Opal’s body language was stiff and she made several small movements backwards to give herself more space, but the guy always edged closer.

“No, really, how can I help you?” Opal looked at him with a frown. 

“I can think of many ways, m’lady!” he said striking a pose that was rather suggestive. It took Kuvira a moment to place him, but she realized she recognized the guy from a queer alliance meeting. His name was Wu. “I am, in fact, waiting for Jinora. She said she had planning stuff related to _Operation D.B._ ” He wiggled his eyebrows. “As in, Drag Ball,” he added unnecessarily while elongating his enunciation of “drag”.

“She’ll probably be here in a couple of minutes. You can wait inside. But we have to set up,” Opal has seen her teammates approach. She shot them a look of wanting to be rescued. 

Wu followed the direction of her look taking in the approaching women. “And who are _these_ dames? How do you keep recruiting such _hotties_ for the fencing team?”

“That’s one hell of an opening line,” remarked Kuvira coldly. She tilted her chin up a bit and looked down on Wu. Although she had not really talked to him before she recalled he was a bit overbearing in the alliance meetings. Being honest with herself, Kuvira also did not really like the way he was talking to Opal.

“Hey, Captain, can I borrow you?” Kuvira was ready to help Opal from her current predicament. Using the official title was a heavy handed hint to Wu that they were at the gym for a reason. She had also made sure to talk to Opal as if Wu was not even there and in the way.

“Sure. Yes, of course.” Opal took the offered life-preserver without hesitation. There was a slightly thankful tone to her question. Kuvira did her most courteous “after you” to make the matter seem a little more urgent. 

Not even slightly discouraged, Wu quickly turned his attention to Korra and Asami. “My, my ladies, I do love an opposites attract couple. One all big and muscley and the other dressed to kill. Do you have room for one more?” His eyes travelled from their clasped hands to their matching annoyed faces.

“Why don’t you hunt for your unicorns somewhere else, Wu?” Korra was in no mood for his pathetic attempts at flirting.

“Oooh, is that a hickey?” He unabashedly stared at Asami’s exposed chest. In their haste, her shoulder bag had pulled the fabric of her shirt open to reveal a dark patch on one side. Korra seemed a bit alarmed and followed his gaze. The bruise was in the shape of a meteor with a bit of a tail. Nothing unusual in the world of epée fencing.

“If I said yes, would you leave us alone?” Asami pulled her shirt collar back in place with a little bit of force.

“Maybe. Is Mako gonna be here today?” Wu did a shimmy motion with his shoulders and stood on his tiptoes to look around.

Opal continued rifling through her keys and unlocking all of the spaces that the team needed. With everyone’s help they would be set up just on time. Jinora and Kai showed up from around the corner just as Wu was getting restless again. They clearly saw Kai roll his eyes when he realized Wu was there.

Items were exchanged and Wu was hurriedly ushered out of the gym. 

As the end of the semester quickly approached, the whole school had the atmosphere of a pressure cooker at full steam. Everyone was pulling all-nighters and waiting for the relief that would come when finals were over. Because of Jinora’s involvement, the fencing team was greatly looking forward to their pressure release that would be Drag Ball. It had been what everyone had been talking about every time the team gathered for practice..

The five girls made their way to the Women’s Locker room and changed relatively quickly, but Kuvira slowed down when it came to throwing on her shoes. Opal took the hint and hung back as Korra, Asami and Jinora left. 

“Thanks for your rescue earlier. Did you actually have something you wanted to talk about or…” she trailed off clearly wondering if there was something to discuss. Kuvira could use the chance to ask Opal about the latest playlist she had shared. It was filled with songs of hopeful romance rather than being ideal for studies. _Is Opal trying to hint something?_

“That last playlist was quite the, uh, mood.”

“Do you not like it?” Opal responded almost too quickly. They walked towards the main hall of the gym not in any particular rush.

“Oh, no I loved it actually. ” Kuvira did not know what to say even though had time to prepare for their chat. 

“Wasn’t sure if they were up your alley when I picked ‘em,” Opal said with a wry smile. The parquet floor was just across the threshold. Stepping over it would effectively end their could-be-more-than-friendly conversation. 

“I wasn’t sure, either, but I listened to it on repeat more times last night than I care to admit.” Kuvira looked up and saw fencers starting to arrive for practice. She put a hand on Opal’s arm, pausing her from going into the main hall. “Uh, thanks,” she said, not sure how to convey the full weight of meaning to the word. She wanted to say “thank you for sharing the great music, thank you for giving me hope of something more, thank you for being.” Instead it just came out super awkward and formal.

Opal’s green eyes met hers with a twinkle. “You’re welcome.”

It was time to cross the threshold. And Kuvira’s hand fell.

Once the stress of final exams was finally over there was only a week left to wrap up most of the classes. The spirits of the students noticeably lifted and were ten times lighter than the previous month. Kuvira’s heart was also lighter, but she did not look forward to tucking in for a lonely winter break. This was the time when the academics got to enjoy being amongst their peers without as much stress hanging over their heads before they headed home to spend time with family. In Kuvira’s case, every day of this time was precious, especially when could spend it with Opal and the others.

As usual she was in the library sharing a couch with Opal, and Korra was on a soft armchair nearby. The three were having a low conversation about the upcoming Drag Ball. The theme was “Vogue“ making it an essentially 80s affair. Korra was trying to press Kuvira what she was planning on wearing.

“C’mon, tell me.”

“No.” Kuvira’s lips pressed into a thin line though her eyes were smiling.

“You’re so hush-hush about it. It’s making me want to know.” Korra was not ready to give up on the idea. Meanwhile Opal tried to keep her attention on the book in her hand. A pen in her other hand hovered over a notebook page. It had not moved since the conversation began.

All Kuvira did was shrug. This was a new kind of patience game they could play. She was not sure if she would give in to her friend’s requests before the ball. It was fun to see if she would hold out though.

“A hint?”

“No. You will see when you see. Stop trying to ruin all the fun,” she let the smirk play on her lips for a moment. But the truth was, Kuvira was a bit nervous about her outfit for Drag Ball and it took all her courage to finally decide on going through with it. She was afraid blabbing about it beforehand would make her change her mind. 

“Fine then. I won’t tell you either.” With a pout, Korra turned dramatically away from her but immediately winced at the sudden movement.

“You alright?”

“Yeah...” Korra grimaced, “I did like a hundred superman push-ups yesterday. Everything is sore.”

“Why? Hate to say it but your abs can already grate cheese.”

Korra rolled her eyes. 

“Is that part of the new training program Tenzin made for you?” Opal asked casually with the pen between her lips, eyes still glued to the notebook.

“Not really, just trying to add some strength stuff to my routine along with everything.”

Opal spared her a quick look, “hmm.”

“But enough about me and my routine,” Korra said with finality. She turned to her new victim to bother. “What are you wearing for the Ball, Opal?”

“A suit,” she said as she flipped a page, not even looking up from her book, obviously prepared.

“What kind?” Korra asked the question that Kuvira had also wanted to know.

“The suit kind,” she said, shrugging. “Men’s fashion hasn’t really made great strides since World War II.” It certainly stopped Korra from trying to wheedle more information out of either of them.

Kuvira smiled. “Whatever you and Asami wear will look good together I’m sure. Did she pick your outfit?”

Korra rolled her eyes again and bit into a protein bar. The crumpling of the wrapper was louder than she had expected. She peeked around the area to see if she would be busted by a member of staff for eating in the library.

Kuvira was not ready to knuckle down to work just yet. “What’s going on with Asami recently?”

“Wha?” Responded Korra unsurely. She was still chewing on the remnants of her power snack.

“She’s late again.”

Korra shrugged, but her face showed insecurity and her chewing slowed as well. “She’s been a little, uh, off lately. Distracted, not really talking about her father, stuff like that.” 

“She said what’s going on?”

Korra swallowed and shook her head. “You know she’s got a lot going on other than school stuff. Probably some trouble with the company. She seems to be a bit better after that meeting with the lawyers the other day. I’m sure she’s got it all handled.” The _“without my knowledge or help”_ was implied. Korra gave another half hearted shrug in the end and averted their eyes. The nutrition facts on her protein bar suddenly became very interesting.

Kuvira and Opal exchanged a look. Opal was frowning. She had been teammates and friends with Korra for a long time. Kuvira knew they had a sibling-like relationship. It was clear that Opal cared about Korra’s feelings and well-being.

“Speaking of which,” Opal pointed down an aisle of books. Everyone turned their heads to see Asami approaching. She looked just as exhausted as everyone else who had just gone through finals if not more so. But there was a curious lightness in her steps. She looked somehow a lot more relaxed than she had been since well before Thanksgiving.

She circled around the couch and hugged Korra’s shoulders tightly from behind and gave her several kisses on the top of her hair. Korra’s body tensed from her aforementioned sore muscles. Then Asami rested her chin on Korra’s head for a moment and closed her eyes, sighing with contentment. Her eyebrows unfurrowed as she breathed out.

“Did you get your final results or what?” Opal closed her book and mused at the scene.

“Something like that.”  
  


\---

Kuvira looked at herself in the mirror and barely recognized the person she saw. The reflection was adorned in a bare shouldered black dress. Her hair was pulled back into a low-bun. A pair of narrow gold and emerald earrings dangled from her ears. The bracelet she had chosen was in gold with a delicate geometric pattern to resemble a lotus flower. It was a great find at an antique shop but it had been near impossible to get on by herself. She threw it in a black clutch hoping to get help with it later.

She twisted her hip to check the long slit down one leg of her dress making sure her lingerie was hidden. _Is this trying too hard?_ She kind of looked… _sexy_. Kuvira did not usually like to associate herself with that adjective. Always made her feel either like prey or conversely someone who used seduction as a weapon. She preferred direct intimidation under such circumstances.

Two quick car honks blasted from outside interrupting her inspection. Too late to change anything, she leaned over to grab her clutch and turned off the bedroom light. 

Outside of her apartment complex, Korra and Asami were seated in the waiting car. 

“Woah,” greeted Korra with wide eyes and her mouth was shaped into an “O”.

“What the hell,” said Kuvira looking pointedly at her friends’ attire. A blush quickly creeped up from her neck to her face. She creased her thick eyebrows. “I thought Jinora said you oughta wear a dress.”

Korra scratched her head and exited the car. Even though the details were hard to make out in the dark, Korra was in, no doubt, a sleek looking pant-suit. “ _I_ never said I was going to wear a dress. I wore skirts and dresses all the time at high school, and whenever we visited relatives and stuff.” She stuck her tongue out as she opened the passenger door for Kuvira. “ _You_ are the one who insisted on keeping your outfit a secret.”

“That’s just great.” Kuvira settled into Asami’s autonomous car. She pulled at the dress, growing more uncomfortable.

Asami hit the go button on the vehicle and it pulled smoothly away from the curb. She turned around and rested her elbow on the seatback. She took a better look at Kuvira’s look and said sincerely, “You look amazing. I’m sure you won't have any trouble finding dance partners or conversation tonight. If you wish to, that is.” She winked before turning back to face the road.

When they arrived at the apartment Korra shared with the brothers, Kuvira got her first proper look at Korra and Asami’s suits. The saber fencer had slicked back her hair with something that gave it a high shine. A rich velvet blue blazer was over a navy vest and pale blue shirt. A bolo with a carved lightwood tribal design was at her neck. Her bottom half was black slacks and of course blue suede shoes 

Asami’s suit was no less sharp than the business suits they had seen her wear for the attorney meetings. A beige single breasted jacket was worn open with the sleeves rolled in true eighties fashion. A stark white shirt was unbuttoned dangerously low, almost meeting her high waisted plaid pants. Somehow Asami had teased her hair out to a classic Farrah Fawcett look including a narrow headband. To complete the whole look she also had on a pair of big wire rimmed glasses. It was the first time Kuvira had seen someone with those that did not scream “dork” to her.

They made their way inside and were greeted by Bolin. He had gone to great lengths to get ready for the night’s festivities. He eagerly lifted his dress above his knee and stuck out his leg, “look, I even shaved my legs!”

Beneath the brown nylons was a clear line where the shaving stopped. “Nobody needs to see that,” said Korra, pulling a face. The rest of the outfit was strange enough to see on their friend. He had gone with a low waisted satin ballgown. The puffy sleeves stopped at a short cap at his biceps. Someone must have helped him tailor it to his size. There were still hints of his abs under the material and the darts were hugging his pecs appropriately. 

“You think we just shave half-ass like that?” Asami lifted an eyebrow and said it somewhere between a question and a statement.

“You girls shave the _whole_ legs, like all of it?” Said Bolin skeptically. 

“Yeah, and then some,” said Kuvira watching Bolin’s expressive face switch to aghast.

“That’s… SO MUCH work!” He declared in shock. He swept some of his synthetic hairs of his blonde wig back into place. He was giving off Molly Ringwald vibes. 

“Bold of you to assume _I_ do the work,” said Asami.

“Oh, quit bragging,” Korra said, giving her girlfriend a playful shoulder bump. 

Back in the bathroom they could hear Opal say “Mako, stop moving. Unless you don’t want your eyes to match.” The group crowded the doorway to see inside of the bathroom. The normally more serious brother was seated on the toilet with Opal standing in front of him.

Opal was holding Mako’ chin still with a strong grip in one hand and was applying eyeliner with the other. She was perched on the edge of the sink in such a way that Mako could look over her shoulder in the wall mirror behind her. “You picked this look,” she said in a half growl to get him to stay put. The navy eyeliner was in a heavy line around his eyes to match his androgenous goth outfit. Hair extensions gave him a sharp asymmetrical line and Opal’s hands gave him a perfect catseye. He pulled at the armpits of his fishnet top trying to make it sit better over a silver lame tank top. Rounding out his ensemble was a long black panel skirt and thirteen hole Docs. 

The two gave quick glances and said hello to the scrum at the door. Mako peeked over Opal’s shoulder to see himself in the mirror during the pause. “Anyone need a last minute touch up after I’m done here?” Opal took a longer look to scrutinize everyone’s faces. Her look lingered on Kuvira for a moment longer than everyone else. When their eyes met, Opal quickly returned her attention to Mako and pulled his chin back to her so she could finish up.

“Why doesn’t everyone grab a drink before we go?” grumbled Mako through his gripped jaw. The crowd was more than happy to disperse and get drinks. Kuvira grabbed an extra beer and popped it open returning to the bathroom door. 

“There,” said Opal standing up from her perch at the edge of the sink. Once she was standing it was easier for Kuvira to see Opal’s outfit. Long black tux pants with a satin stripe and a narrow forest green waistcoat were all very formal. Undoubtedly there was a coat to match somewhere in the apartment as Opal’s sleeves were rolled to keep them from getting makeup on them. Tucked under the cuff of her trousers were a pair of Chucks1. They seemed more like a statement rather than a last minute scramble as their color matched her vest perfectly.

“Thank you, Opal. I appreciate your help,” said Mako as he strolled out of the bathroom to the rest of their friends outside. Kuvira offered the open bottle to Opal as soon as Mako was gone. Opal took it, letting her eyes rake up and down Kuvira’s dress and stopping again on her face. From Opal the once-over was not unwelcome. Kuvira felt her face warming up as the gaze lingered. 

“I think I have something here that might be perfect for you.” Opal dug into her makeup bag before pulling out the tube of lipstick. She opened the cap and checked the color. 

Opal turned and sat on the edge of the sink again then reached out and grabbed Kuvira’s wrist. “Come here,” she said, pulling Kuvira to the spot where Mako had stood before. She used her knees on Kuvira’s hips to anchor Kuvira in place before she let go of her wrist.

Kuvira tried but could not come up with any objections when Opal was so close to her. She was a deer in the headlights. Electricity shot up her arm from where Opal had grabbed her wrist. She was hyper-aware of where Opal’s knees were pinning her in place. Kuvira took a long sip of the cold beer hoping to bring down the blush that was trying to blossom on her cheeks. She set the beer down on the counter top, trying not to look at Opal or herself in the mirror. It felt as if the bathroom walls were closing in on the two of them, and the temperature rose ten degrees.

Opal held Kuvira’s jaw further from her chin and more gently than she had with Mako before. Her hand was warm and she leaned in. “Pucker,” The team captain commanded in a low voice. She made a slight kissy motion with her own lips. Kuvira obeyed but could not peel her own eyes off of the lips that were dangerously close to her own. 

When she was done applying the lipstick Opal released her hold on Kuvira’s jaw. Her knees were still pressed against Kuvira’s hips indicating she was still not free to go. Her body heat had penetrated the thin fabric of Kuvira’s dress. She sat up and looked around the counter top. Kuvira's eyes followed every movement as Opal recapped the lipstick, put it down and extracted a kleenex from the tissue box. Opal neatly folded it. “Open,” she commanded, placing the paper between Kuvira’s lips. Then she said “blot” showing Kuvira what to do with her lips. Again, Kuvira simply copied her actions. 

Opal tilted her head to evaluate her work. She folded the kleenex again and bowed closer to Kuvira. Pinkie out, Opal used the paper to carefully clean up a section of lipstick that had wandered away from where she had wanted it. Kuvira felt like she would asphyxiate because she was sure she was paralyzed all the way down her brain stem.

Opal straightened again. “Voila.” She leaned off to one side so that Kuvira could see herself in the wall mirror behind. The image that greeted her in the mirror was startling. The green silk back of Opal’s vest contrasted beautifully with the red lipstick Opal had chosen for her and matched well with the subtle green eyeshadow she had done at home. 

There was that strange empowerment that came with an almost out-of-body experience. A giddy feeling of letting go and knowing that anything can happen. She raised a finger to her cheek and watched the person in the mirror doing the same. It was a wicked balance of seeing that while she had control but what could next come was completely beyond her control as well. 

Kuvira looked up from herself in the mirror and immediately met Opal’s piercing gaze. Her breathing caught again. They stared at each other for a moment. Opal broke the moment first by pushing herself off down the counter and gathering her things. Kuvira scrambled up the presence of mind to say “wait” before Opal left the bathroom. 

Kuvira took the moment to take another swig of her beer, careful not to mess up the newly applied lipstick. She hoped that the color in her cheeks had returned to something more normal. “Can you help me with this?” She unzipped her clutch, reaching in to get the bracelet. Opal took a brief look at the braclet’s clasp and placed it over Kuvira’s naked wrist. 

There were clear parallels to be drawn between that moment in time and a corsage being put on before a prom. Kuvira had never attended hers and wondered if this was the universe’s way of making it up to her.

Carefully Opal did the finicky clasp by holding it close to her face. Opal took a moment to hold Kuvira’s wrist still so she could see the details of the flower pattern. Her eyes traced from Kuvira’s wrist, up her arm, stopping to rest in her eyes. The tension was not yet overwhelming, but she was not ready to make a move and it seemed like Opal was not in a hurry either. 

“Time to go!” Exclaimed Asami from the other room.

The moment was broken. Opal turned away to pick up her makeup bag. Kuvira thought she could hear her friend quietly clearing her throat.

When they arrived on campus, the entrance hall was just beginning to fill up with people dressed for the occasion. There was a magical energy in the air that was the result of a mix of artificial fog, the aroma of sweet alcohol, and excited chatter. Jinora had mentioned before that when people stepped further out of their comfort zone they became more relaxed. It was a paradox, but somehow it rang true with their surroundings.

They followed the glittery sign that led them all the way up the top floor. 

A table was set up by the entrance. Kya, Lin, and a professor Kuvira did not recognize were seated behind it handing out wristbands. They had arm bands that read “ _Faculty Supervisor”_ in clear font. _._ Upon seeing the familiar faces, the team members exchanged a look amongst themselves. Bolin whispered back at them, “I’m glad we pre-gamed.” He made a downing shot gesture before turning back to stand in line. To their surprise, Lin was in a pretty good mood. She silently handed out wristbands to them without checking their ID, obviously remembering who was under age and who wasn’t. 

Kya gave them warm smiles and said “have fun and be safe, kids!” Lin nodded alongside her as a send off.

As they made their way into the actual hall without a fuss, Korra made an impressed face.

One of the theatre school’s black box theatres was converted into a dance hall. A dense haze was suspended in the air, giving out a slightly mysterious atmosphere. Colorful light rays criss-crossed in the air. At one side of the room, a T-stage was set up. Suspended from the overhead catwalk was a disco ball in the shape of a high heeled shoe. 

Someone on the decorating committee had done their research and decorated the tables with very 1980’s motifs. The colors were garish and abundant with abstract geometric motifs. Posters were placed around the walls with people silhouetted against color gradients similar to “Endless Summer” images. Balloons were arranged in arches over doorways and passages and Rubix Cube blocks were set up as pedestals at various places so people could set down drinks.

There were already a good number of people in the hall, catching up and admiring each other’s alternate personas. Surrounded by large hair and loud fashion, it was as though they had all been magically transported to the queerest of Eighties proms. The speakers were playing Joy Division softly. The lights were still quite bright, indicating that the ball had yet to officially begin.

The fencers filtered through the crowd and somehow managed to spot Jinora. Her whole outfit was an homage to Bowie’s alter ego. Instead of Ziggie’s signature lightning bolt she had painted a glittery arrow in several shades of blue that wrapped diagonally around her freshly shaven head. She looked truly androgenous and would have given Tilda Swinton a run for her money.

Over the next few minutes the lights dimmed a bit and the music ramped up in speed and volume. The bodies around them started moving and filling the dance floor. Some people had embraced the eighties theme and looked like they could have walked off the set of “Fame”. Others wore their best cross dressing outfit whatever that meant for them.

At the end of an upbeat remix the music dropped out and an attention grabbing shrill rang out through the sound system. A deep voice bellowed, “Hello Boys, Girls, and Everrrryone Between and Beyond!” Lights spotlighted the stage area drawing everyone's attention just in time to see a queen come out from behind the shimmering curtains. Her wig would have put RuPaul to shame and her shimmering evening dress was festooned with sequins. Her hourglass figure and voice demanded more of the gathered crowd’s rapt attention. She strutted down the runway cracking rude jokes about the crowd who was eating up the shade being thrown at them. After the brief comedy routine, the EmCee declared it was time for “Vouge-ing” which was clearly a cue for Madonna’s song to blast through the speakers. 

As the song continued more queens joined the EmCee on the stage dancing for their lives. The routine was well choreographed and the crew knew what they were about. Kuvira belatedly realized that one particularly impressive dancer who had done the splits was Wu. After the performance was over the EmCee took the spotlight again and announced the Drag contests. Pairs of competitors would emerge from behind the shimmery curtain and do lipsync-offs. After each round the EmCee would ask the audience to cheer for the winner as a way of voting. Wu returned to the stage during the competition and won resoundingly with his thoroughly dramatic moves. His outclassed opponent put on a sour loser show after the audience overwhelmingly cheered for Wu’s routine.

The live entertainment was a welcome break from the dancing and gave everyone a chance to cool off, get more refreshments and enjoy a show. Drag Ball had to have a moment where it could thoroughly live up to its name. Lip syncing with Queens and Kings strutting their stuff across the dance floor was a key feature of the ball. 

After the performances concluded the dance floor started to move and ripple again. The music worked its way to the inevitable love songs. With them people were pairing off and dancing closer together. The romantic atmosphere was contagious. Around the circle of fencers couples were snogging. 

Kuvira was content to move off of the dance floor and have a drink at one of the Rubix Cube plinths. She was having a grand time just watching and being in an atmosphere with stunning people utterly enjoying themselves. “ _I Think We’re Alone Now_ ” 2 was very appropriate for her mood. 

On the dance floor Korra was doing a cheeky slide around Asami. At the end of the song the lights changed to cyan and pink for “ _Heaven is a Place on Earth”._ Korra lifted Asami’s glasses and placed them in her voluminous hair before leaning in for a kiss. Afterwards they hugged and giggled and Korra looked past her girlfriend and locked eyes with Kuvira. The foilist gave her an encouraging eyebrow wiggle and raised her red solo cup at seeing Korra so happy.

Kuvira looked around the room to see what the rest of her friends were up to. The brothers had each found someone to dance with, but Kuvira did not recognize Bolin’s dance partner. Mako on the other hand was closely swaying with Wu. He looked kind of embarrassed when Wu did a swoon and dropped in his arms. But in actuality the grudging look suited his emo get-up quite nicely. The student fencers on the team were not the only ones enjoying the evening, apparently. Kuvira caught sight of Lin standing by an exit swaying ever so slightly to the beat of the music. Nevermind that her hands were clasped behind her back and her eyes were inspecting the crowd closely for any signs of trouble. The whole 80s theme probably brought up a memory or two in their stern-faced coach.

The only person Kuvira had not spied since leaving the dancefloor was Opal. She assumed that the captain had found someone to either have a dance or drink with, which left her feeling a little, or maybe a whole lot, empty and down, so Kuvira was surprised when Opal suddenly appeared next to her with two drinks in hand. At some point during the evening the tux-clad girl had acquired a flower bud in deep red and slipped it through the hole in her lapel. They did not exchange many words other than a small “cheers” with their plastic cups and turned their attention back to the swelling crowd. 

They were close to finishing their drinks when Opal leaned closer to be heard. Over the loud music she asked “why aren’t you dancing?” 

“So everyone can stare at me in this ridiculous dress?” Kuvira deflected reflexively.

Opal took a moment to process what was just said and wore an incredulous face. “You’re really something, you know?” She shook her head, looking a little taken back. 

Kuvira swallowed, a little mad at herself for breaking the magic so easily. She looked at her cup, and leaned in to speak again. “I was kidding. Just let me finish this.”

She downed the rest of the tepid beer and placed it on the pedestal, using the time to calm herself down. _Right,_ Kuvira thought, _don’t trip._

Taking her wrist, Opal led them onto a spot on the dance floor just as a new song was beginning. Kuvira had hoped for something more upbeat but instead “ _Night Shift”_ came on _,_ a decidedly slow song.

Feeling awkward, Kuvira let Opal pull her into a classic ballroom pose with their hips almost pressed together. Opal laughed at the sheer panic on Kuvira’s face. She had purposely chosen the classic pose just to get a rise out of Kuvira. Momentary entertainment over, the captain moved Kuvira’s gripped hand to her shoulder and moved her free hand to her waist. Thankful for the colored lights, Kuvira was still scarlet.

Eventually Kuvira settled into the sway of the music and being so close to Opal. She was very careful to leave her arms as straight as possible with her fingers interlocked just barely brushing the back of Opal’s neck. It was the safest way for her to maintain her composure.

It was exciting to be so tantalizingly close to Opal, but overwhelming as possibilities crossed her head. There was also a slow burn of anger at herself for not knowing how to bridge the gap between reality and any of those prospects.

Being only inches apart, Kuvira could see all of the little expressions on Opal’s face and she could not tear her eyes away. At the beginning Opal looked a bit shy, then as the gentle beats unrolled, she looked to be thoroughly enjoying the dance. Her neck was relaxed, shoulders loose and their waists moved in sync. The bass of the harmony thrummed low in their bodies. When the tempo picked up, Opal gave Kuvira a twirl. Their arms crossed in a hold in front Kuvira with Opal pressed up behind her. Kuvira felt the damp hot breath on the base of her neck.

Once Opal spun Kuvira back out of the dance hold, Opal linked her hands behind Kuvira’s head giving Kuvira the job of leading. As the song crept on, the captain had bent her arms, forcing their two bodies into inching closer. Kuvira tripped slightly when she realized their hips were touching. Slowly, Opal’s face had turned into that of contemplation. 

Towards the end of the song Opal stood on her tiptoes simultaneously drawing Kuvira to bend her ear towards her lips. 

“Want to get out of here?”

A surge of heat rushed through Kuvira’s body as the words were said so close that Opal’s lips brushed her ear. When Opal released her grip and pulled back slightly Kuvira’s face had arranged itself into one less shocked and more sure of its desire. She mouthed a silent “yes” knowing that she did not have to shout above the music for her captain to understand.

Opal grabbed Kuvira’s wrist for the third time that evening. “ _Rhythm of the Night”_ began thumping through the room as they made their way through the sea of exhilarated people. Everyone seemed to move in slow motion around them with big smiles and a drunken joy. When the musical hook began the crowd broke like a wave, dropping down arms still in the air shouting “yeah!” along with the song.

They weaved through couples both familiar and unfamiliar with Opal confidently leading the way. They broke into a run once they were out of the dim dance hall. Before they reached the main exit doors Opal took a detour to a partially hidden door. Still gripping Kuvira’s wrist Opal did a quick check to make sure that Kuvira was still alright. There was a small blush on her cheeks from the running. They swept through a narrow corridor, down a hallway that led past dressing rooms, green rooms and up a narrow flight of stairs to a tech booth. 

Opal pushed open the door and Kuvira realized that the booth overlooked the dance hall below. A pair of students were inside the narrow booth, their lips engaged in pleasant activities. Undoubtedly at least one of them was supposed to be controlling the lighting and the sound cues for the evening, but it was a quiet niche to have private time. One paused long enough to see who had entered. “Oh hey Opal. Yeah, go on up.” He waved them on. His makeout partner did not even spare them a glance before they were at it again.

Kuvira was unsure all of a sudden. The booth was narrow and barely wide enough for the two chairs being occupied by the boys making out. The room was rough and unfinished looking. There was jagged wood with visible splinters and the doorway was made of rusty metals. Kuvira was worried that almost any surface would catch their delicate outfits. But Opal did not seem to care, she deftly pulled her into the narrow space nonetheless and let go of her wrist long enough to climb an access ladder hidden behind the door. 

“Come on,” said Opal through the opening once she had gone through the roof of the booth. Kuvira was too curious not to follow.

By the time Kuvira got to the top of the metal rung ladder, Opal was waiting for her on the catwalk. They were lit from below and a few of the helium balloons were caught under the metal grating that made up the catwalk. Kuvira looked down and could see where her friends were still slow dancing. 

Opal had picked up a bag and threw its strap over her shoulder. Then she led Kuvira to a second ladder leading even further up into the darkened ceiling. She climbed it too and lifted the heavy panel open for the two to get through. Kuvira hesitated only a moment before she climbed the second ladder.

Once up the ladder and onto the roof Kuvira took in the sights. The theatre was on a high enough promontory that they could see most of the school laid out before them. “You can see the sunset if you look out this way,” Opal gestured to the west to where the bulk of Republic City could be seen glittering in the evening light. “And there of course you can see the main entrance to the gym.” As she continued speaking Opal had set the bag down and took out a speaker Kuvira recognized from the locker room at the gym.

Their breaths came out in soft puffs of smoke with the chill of the winter air. Kuvira hugged herself for warmth. 

“You cold?” Opal pulled a sweater from in the bag. 

“Clearly you planned ahead,” said Kuvira, sliding her arms into the sweater with Opal’s help. Opal ran a hand over the material of the nearest sleeve sending more goosebumps over Kuvira’s skin than the chilly night air had managed. Kuvira was bereft when Opal drew her attention away and reached into the bag again. The captain pulled out a flask, unscrewed the lid and took a swig then offered it to Kuvira.

“So this is how you know when I am on campus”. The rooftop also gave a clear view of the structure that Kuvira preferred to use for parking. She said “I” because she meant it. She didn’t want ambiguity. She wanted Opal to confirm, she wanted to know she wasn’t imagining things.

Kuvira took the offered flask and drank while she waited for an answer.

Opal did not answer, but instead moved towards a bench that had somehow found its way onto the roof. There was no way it could have made it through the ladder access they had used. In the dim evening light Kuvira could still clearly see that there was a smile on Opal’s face. It was inviting enough that Kuvira followed and slid close to Opal on the bench.

Kuvira was suddenly feeling sparks fly around her again. She could still feel the subtle thumping of the base from the ball through her feet and it matched the thumping of her heartbeat. Now all the possibilities seemed tangible. Opal fumbled at the speaker.

“Haven’t you had enough music for one night?”

“Feeling like escaping the eighties for a bit.” She hit play and jabbed at the “+” button a couple times to amp up the volume.

Kuvira scrunched her nose after she recognized the song. She loved this song actually. “ _Really_?”

“I know a place.” Opal gestured to the roof with both hands. Indeed the song that was playing through the speaker was MUNA’s _I Know A Place._

Kuvira laughed. “You’re so damn cheese it’s adorable.” When she looked back Opal was just looking at her.

“Have I told you how good you look tonight?”

“No. I’m sure the sweater did the trick.” Kuvira pulled on the sleeve.

Opal chuckled softly. “Well, you look great.” She shuffled a bit and could not maintain eye contact. “Amazing, actually.”

Kuvira could feel Opal’s knuckles fidgeting by her thigh, fingers tracing the satin stripe of her trousers. She was glad that Opal was just as nervous and it had not all been in her head. Instead Kuvira took her free hand and gently but firmly cupped Opal’s chin so that she could look at those intense green eyes. She waited only a handful of heartbeats then she leaned in.

Opal had been setting the pace all evening with her light than air footwork and calculating mind, but a kiss required instinct. Kuvira kept her eyes open until the moment their lips touched. The electricity spread from their lips to the base of her skull and spread out from there. Fire shot through to every nerve ending in her body and she saw fireworks on the inside of her eyelids. 

As their lips kept exploring one another, Kuvira’s hand shifted to the back of Opal’s neck and up through her hair. Kuvira could feel the moan that she elicited from Opal not just through her mouth, but right down into the pit of her soul.

Opal’s free hand was no more still than Kuvira’s. It traced up Kuvira’s arm, slid along her shoulder and slid down her back to rest at the edge of the borrowed sweater. Her palm slid under the knit edge to rest flat on the silk that felt whisper thin on Kuvira’s back. Another fire was beginning there set off by the heat being transferred from Opal’s palm.

Kuvira freed her grip on Opal’s hair so that she could take a breath. When she opened her eyes, dark pupils with the merest hint of green were staring intently into hers. She swept a look over more of Opal’s face, taking in as much as she could of the moment, savoring and memorizing as much as she could.

Impatient Opal leaned back in while pulling Kuvira closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Aka Chuck Tailors, AKA Converse  
> 2 Ok I know Tiffany's version is not from the 80s, and neither is "Rhythm of the Night" but I just like them, ok?
> 
> Insight into our writing... Itchy left me a note that said "I can't for the lesbian of me explain fashion." There was also a really LONG and LOUD argument about Gloves and that is when I found out she thinks I have a glove fetish. I still think long dark green gloves would have gone great with Kuvira's dress. --- Sabrepunk


	15. Reeled In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murphy’s Law.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speaking of Murphy's Law... SP was hit hard by that today with a flat tire and multiple runs to the hardware store... Needless to say that she has had a butch lesbian field day....
> 
> Anyways, sorry it took us so long to get this out. We had some major blockage with the plot points here. But we hope the long wait is worth it?

It was 10am and the room was still dark.

A repetitive shrieking sound tore through the gloom.

Kuvira snoozed the alarm for what must have been the sixth time. She slung an arm over her face, covering her eyes, and sighed. She was awake before her alarm had gone off the first time. For two hours she could not muster the energy to actually push herself out of bed.

She squinted at the slither of sunlight leaking through the thin gap between the black-out curtain and the windowsill, willing it to go away until the strong contrast of luminance started to hurt her eyes.

She sighed again and sat up, slowly.

 _Here we go again._ _Another day of going through the motions._

The whistling pulled her out of the trance. She turned off the stove and poured the steaming water into the french press. The dark powder sitting at the bottom swirled around in the glass cylinder.

She was just about to dip the filter shaft into the coffee before seeing an uncleaned spot with some dried coffee ground still stuck to it. Kuvira frowned and turned on the faucet to rinse it off.

It was going to be a really shitty day.

She leaned against the counter, her phone in one hand while the other pumped the french press mechanically. There were several visible dirty fingerprints on the screen from her incessant snoozing. Other than that, no new messages. _No surprise there._

Kuvira always thought, perhaps because of various misfortunes that dated all the way before she could not even remember them, she had gotten good at never believing good things would just _happen._

 _Because they don’t._ When things were going well, she would usually cautiously anticipate disasters just around the corner. And she hated that she was right. She was even more annoyed that she had not seen it coming this time.

She had been the one lured onto the rooftop. She had made sure that the signals were crystal clear before anything happened. The kiss had been so damn good and felt exactly right. _Yet..._

She screwed shut her eyes for a moment trying to shake off the now tainted memories...

Looking down, she saw that some coffee dredge had made way through the old broken steel net into the mucky liquid. She had been at it for more than five minutes, forcing the water through the ground way too many times. The black dots were floating and swirling at a languid speed. The coffee was almost black. The taste would be too acidic. Sour, and _bitter_.

_Just like this winter._

Kuvira turned to the sink briskly and dumped the content of the French press into it.

\---

_12 Days Ago_

“I’m sorry, I just can’t. Not right now.”

Opal’s hands wrapped around the coffee cup a little tighter, as if searching for an anchor amidst Kuvira’s oncoming rage. Those same hands had loosened Kuvira’s bun and been run through her hair, gripping it tightly as they kissed. 

They were sitting in the campus coffee house in an occasion that Kuvira had thought to be a date but now just feeling stupid for putting on one of her best button-ups and nice shoes.

She searched Opal’s face, trying to read something other than guilt. There were millions of questions she wanted to ask: _“Not right now, or not ever? If not now when? Was it all just a game or did the Drag Ball mean ANYTHING at all?”_

“I don’t understand,” is what she said aloud instead. Her brows furrowing as if what was in front of her was just a difficult problem to solve, and she was merely willing for a legitimate answer because she couldn’t come up with any herself.

“I… There’s too much going on.”

Kuvira could finally sense the storm of anger that Opal had clearly been anticipating welling up inside of her chest. 

There were more questions, or maybe accusations she squashed herself from slipping out. _“Are you kidding me? You are the one who led me up there. You didn’t have to do that. We didn’t have to do any of that stuff. We didn’t have to acknowledge it or anything, but now we have and it’s just plain stupid to try and close that box once it has been opened.”_ But she held her ground and determined she would never be the first to admit her feelings. She would not be PATHETIC and beg for an explanation that would not heal her anyways. Her brows unfurrowed and she let out an almost imperceptible and yet indignant huff.

“Okay.” Kuvira said quietly and with as much calm as she could manage. “I get it.” She did not really, not at all. But she would be a bigger person than what her feelings wanted of her. It would be pointless. There was no need to sprinkle salt over her own wound. If one side of the bridge had collapsed there is no crossing over no matter how much Kuvira wanted.

Opal’s eyebrows knitted together in question and disbelief instead. Kuvira suspected she had prepared a much longer speech to convince her and did not expect her to yield so easily. She looked guilty again, “I’m sorry.”

Kuvira’s eyes bored into Opal, hopelessly hoping that for once she could read the girl in front of her.

“Don’t be.” Kuvira was being genuine. There was no need to feel sorry for her. She was not interested in Opal’s pity.

She stood up from the booth, suddenly glad she wore her best outfit. She knew that her ass looked great in her jeans. Jutting her chin out in a slightly haughty manner she said “see you after the break,” in as level a tone as possible and turned on her heel not waiting for a response.

There could have been a little extra thrill in being so outwardly calm about being “broken up” with, but the shock, hurt, and something akin to uncertainty on Opal’s face only left Kuvira’s shoulders tense and uneasy. She left out a shaky breath and walked past the threshold, fighting the urge to look back one more time.

  
  


\---

The climbing gym was empty. For the college areas of town, winter and summer breaks were usually the dead seasons.

During the previous two years of working at the gym, she made good use of the down time to get it deep-cleaned and re-organized. She did not mind the hard work, finding it therapeutic instead.

However, looking down at the tangled ropes in her lap, she just wanted to burn it all this time.

Sighing deeply for the third time of the day, Kuvira tossed the ropes aside. Being back in the gym just reminded her of when she reconnected with Korra only months ago. How Korra convinced her back into fencing. How she ended up part of the whole mess. If she tried hard enough, she could almost hear the labored engine of the blue Volvo pulling up at the parking lot. Looking at the routes she could almost see Korra and the brothers competing against each other along the walls.

But they were not there and the Volvo would not show up, either.

Preparing for another disappointment, she pulled out her phone.

Of course, still no new messages.

_10 days ago_

The national tournament venue was a convention center hall. Along one wall near one side of the main entrance was the bout committee. They bustled about in wrinkled suits waiting on printers and data entrants. The staff working there was either young and tech savvy or older and reliant on pencils and clipboards. A frazzled woman caught in the age gap was acting as translator between the generations. 

On the other side of the entrance were the armory and testing stations. Signs declared where fencers should go to check their respective weapons. Grumpy bearded men manned these tables with their multi-tools holstered on their belts. Past the armorers were vendors selling everything from fencing gear to food to casual wear with ridiculous fencing cartoons. It was where the only low pile rugs could be found. Otherwise everything was bare cement except for strips layered on top of interlocking parquet floors. 

Lining the walls of the hall were waiting fencers, their entourages and equipment bags. Folding chairs were a hot commodity and were only found between pairs of strips and being jealously guarded by parents leaning their feet on coolers and ice chests. Some people had smartly brought their own folding chairs. In between strips were tables where the machines were set up, cables running in a mess to floor outlets and to the reels at the ends of the strips. 

Already the sounds of bodies, blades and machines were echoing in the acoustic nightmare that made up the convention hall. There was a vague smell of sweat that lingered from the previous day’s fencing. Fortunately Kuvira could not hear the hum of old fluorescent lights hanging between catwalk passages though she did note their ugly presence.

Korra had made a point of asking Kuvira to come and support her. Asami was there of course and so were Bumi and Tenzin to provide coaching, but Korra had specifically wanted Kuvira to come along as the “plus-one-friend”. No one else on the team was afforded the invite. Kuvira suspected it had something to do with her having to spend the holiday season all alone but nonetheless Kuvira was especially honored and excited to see what a national tournament was like. It would also be a good distraction from the mental exhaustion she still felt from the conversation with the team Captain two days before.

She looked to her right to see Korra listening intently to Tenzin and Bumi. The tournament was one of many that elite fencers could earn national points towards getting a slot on the Olympic team. Korra needed a top eight finish at this and the next several tournaments to get in and stay in contention for a slot. It was one of the few competitions that season that took place in their home state. For once she had been training tirelessly for it, and this was essentially her home turf. Having a good standing in the end would be a good start to kick off her olympic qualification campaign. It was obvious from Korra and her whole coaching team that she wanted, _needed,_ to do well in this competition. 

To the left of Kuvira sat Asami, who was tinkering with a bodycord. They were temporarily set up in a tight circle against one of the walls with all of the other expectant fencers. Asami had brought three folding chairs with side tables and a cooler with snacks for the group. Nearby was Korra’s rolling hard case and Bumi’s soft sided rolling fencing bag. Considering how many were in their merry band they took up far less floor space than some other people.

The lights on the test box blinked on and off occasionally in Kuvira’s peripheral vision. Korra had plenty of spares, but Asami seemed too nervous to totally devote all of her attention to watching Korra get ready to fence. While they sat on the sidelines, Korra and Bumi were doing a warm up lesson and Tenzin was pacing near the bout committee waiting to see where Korra would be fencing in her pool. 

Kuvira was looking forward to the opportunity to see how a larger tournament was run and see some of the other weapon competitions that day. School tournaments were one thing, but larger tournaments meant that you could not rely solely on the team or a team captain to get by and make decisions. _Make decisions for you that were impossible to decipher, that is._ Kuvira swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth. 

Tenzin returned from his pacing with Korra’s strip assignment. Everyone gathered up their things and made their way to the part of the hall where Korra would spend the first round. There was a bustle of activity as other fencers, parents and coaches were all doing the same things. 

Pools went well for Korra. She came out seeded in tenth which was not a bad outcome considering she had probably reserved some of her energy for the Direct Elimination rounds. She was still buzzing happily by bouncing around on tiptoes, making silly faces with Bumi occasionally. Knowing how much Korra wanted this, Kuvira was glad that at least the “Olympic hopeful” everyone was talking about could still make the whole competition less stressful for herself.

When Kuvira found her between rounds Korra was chatting amiably with a duo of older fencers. One man was bald with gray warmups, with a scar cut across his left eyebrow. His back was to Kuvira and she could see the embroidered outline of a deep red flower. His companion was a woman wearing matching warmups but sitting comfortably in a wheelchair.

“That’s cool, but I am not sure I can get behind the philosophy,” said Korra. She waved Kuvira over and introduced her to the older fencers. 

“This is Ming-Hua,” she indicated to the woman in the chair, “and Zaheer, members of the Red Lotus Club. They were just saying that they don’t think fencers under the age of sixteen should be allowed to use a weapon in practice or compete.”

“Huh, interesting,” Kuvira wondered how long she would have stayed with fencing if she had not been allowed to touch the steel before she turned sixteen. Even though she was part of the conversation now the two strangers kept their bodies turned towards Korra making her feel slightly unwelcome.

“The youth of today lack discipline. Every single person I’ve dealt with under the age of eighteen pretends that a fencing weapon is either a lightsaber or a penis in less than fifty seconds, or makes the usual fence related puns. I don’t have time for such infantile behavior,” Zaheer confidently declared. 1

The discipline part Kuvira could get behind, but considering she did have a great time playing with lightsabers at Halloween... 

“Is your club a popular one?” Kuvira dared to ask after clearing her throat.

“Well it is a very tight knit group at the moment. We just came back from a decade long hiatus, so to speak. Now we are looking for a new practice space in the city,” said Ming-Hua. 

“Our training style and hours were not,” Zaheer took a moment to search for the right word, “compatible with the last club we were at.” Zaheer paused then added, “it would be great to practice with a renowned local fencer such as you.” He pulled the conversation back at Korra. “Maybe we can practice together and we can get you up to our level?”

Kuvira hackles were rising. She was standing right there too, but Zaheer was being impolite and almost completely pushing her from the conversation while slyly buttering up Korra. But before either of them could say anything - 

“Korra!” All of them turned their heads to see Tenzin walking towards them at a brisk pace. Once he was close enough, he immediately put his hand on Korra’s shoulder and pried her further away from Zaheer while inserting himself into the circle.

“Coach Tenzin.” Zaheer wore a courteous smile and nodded to the other bald man.

“Zaheer.” Tenzin’s eyes darted to the armchair fencer, who was wearing less of a polite façade, “Ming-Hua.” He fixed his gray eyes back onto Zaheer, “Sorry to cut the conversation short but I’m afraid you will have to excuse us.” He squeezed a really reluctant smile before pulling on Korra again to urge her to leave.

“Well I need to go off and warm up, I’m sure I will have a chance to fence with someone from your team at some point today,” said Korra hooking Kuvira by the elbow as Tenzin led them back towards their base camp. As Korra pulled the foilist away from the conversation, Kuvira politely, albeit coldly added, “thank you for the interesting conversation.”

“Sorry Tenzin, I was just, uh -” Korra seemed to think that Tenzin was mad at her because she was not focusing on preparing for the next round.

At that, Tenzin’s eyes softened, “it’s not that, Korra.” Once they were out of the Red Lotus’ earshot, Tenzin explained further, “Zaheer and the Red Lotus just don’t have the best reputation. He and a few of his team mates were banned from tournaments for three seasons. The details of their ban were not made public by the federation, but the rumor mill has been flying.”

“They are nice enough but I can’t imagine they will be able to recruit a lot of fencers with their philosophies” responded Korra. “I’ve seen plenty of adults who can’t wait to swoosh a fencing sword like a movie buccaneer,” she said with a big smile coming to attention doing a ridiculous wide slashing motion with her arm and then pretending to take off a wide brimmed hat and bowing low. Then Korra stood up straight again and got serious. “Want to help me warm up with some footwork drills?”

As a dutiful friend Kuvira helped Korra get in the zone for her first bout in the DE. Her heart was hardly in the mood to really fence. It had only been a few days and every slap of feet reminded her of Opal. Once Korra got on strip and easily won her first bout, Kuvira knew she would be able to wander off for a little while and not be missed. She would have a chance to wander away and go see the fencing the rest of the hall.

Walking around gave Kuvira a better sense of the business and size of the competition. All three weapons would take place across four days of bouting. Within each weapon were divisions of gender and age. It was in theory possible for a young fencer to compete in as many as nine events if they had the energy and money for such an endeavor.2

Looking around at the meager camera set up as well as their tired looking operators, Kuvira was wondering if the event was even being broadcast anywhere. 

That day there was a Y14 women’s foil event coinciding with Korra’s saber competition. It occupied half the hall, but there were far more parents and coaches crowding the space to cheer on their young competitors. They jostled, made more noise, and took up far more room than the adult fencers competing in the saber. 

Listlessly, Kuvira wandered over to see how the younger fencers were doing. For the most part they were finishing up their pools in the first round of fencing. Tip weapons always took longer than saber so as usual they had started before the slashing weapon. There was a lot of talent in the room and not all of it was local. Kuvira heard at least three languages as she walked around the hall and not just from the coaches.

She let her eyes drift. Weapons swooshed through the air and pairs of feet reverberated on parquet. The thrumming of feet mixed with the clash of blades and the constant hum of people talking. Layered over that were the occasional excited shouts and buzz of the machines registering touches. 

_Thump-tha-thump._ The distinct noise of the fencing footwork filtered through the clamorous soundscape. Instantly Opal came to Kuvira’s mind again. She watched someone she assumed was a father scream and wave at a young girl. _Maybe Lin found out what happened and told Opal to end things? Maybe her mother was putting pressure on her?_ Kuvira found herself still inclined to look for excuses for the girl who had hurt her. She shook herself out of her stupor and wandered back to support Korra in the incoming bouts.

The second direct elimination bout went well, too, ensuring Korra a spot in the top thirty two. Her next bout pitted her against a member of the Red Lotus Team, a woman by the name of P’Li. Asami and Kuvira went to scope out the woman while Korra was taking a short break with Bumi. Tenzin wandered off to chat with other coaches he knew.

The pair spied P’Li relaxing with the other Red Lotus’ in a dark corner at one end of the hall. “Wow, she is really tall,” commented Asami. “She’s got about five inches on me.” The woman was resting her arm comfortably on Zaheer’s shoulder, towering over him by more than a head. 

“I like her haircut though.” It was a french braid with an undercut. “Great for getting a mask on and off. Maybe I should get that cut,” said Kuvira knowing that she was not quite so bold with her personal style. Her lips pulled down to a scowl as she suddenly thought of how cliché it was when people resorted to cutting hair as an emotional outlet after a “break up” or similar emotional turmoil.3

Although they had found their prey, P’li was not actually fencing, so the two RCU teammates were no closer to knowing anything about the woman’s fencing skills. They returned to Korra empty handed. 

“Do you think they are dating?” Wondered Asami aloud after telling Korra what little they knew of her next opponent.

“That’s kind of weird right? Dating your own coach?” Korra was somewhat disgusted by the idea of a coach dating a student. 

“Weirder than dating your teammate?” Kuvira asked pointedly, giving Korra and Asami a quick glance. She knew that Korra missed how easily her own relationship could be critiqued. Growing up a fencing prodigal, Korra’s coaches were probably all parental figures to her. The Red Lotus members were all older and it was not completely untoward for adults to form student/teacher relationships. 

“Definitely,” responded Korra in perfect obliviousness. Kuvira hummed in response, wondering what Korra would have thought of the newly non-existent captain/squadmate relationship.

A few minutes later Tenzin returned from his own scouting mission. Despite his seeming familiarity with Zaheer, Tenzin had not found out much about P’Li’s style as a sabre fencer. Her days before their so-called hiatus saw her as an epeeist. The other coaches he had conferred with could only tell him that she was aggressive and had incredible reach. Korra’s group gathered their things and made their way to the strip designated for Korra’s next bout.

Korra finished hooking up on the strip and was eager to begin the long bout with an unknown opponent. Sometimes it was fun to jump into the deep end and find out the true nature of your skills. P’Li looked just as confident and unfazed by the age gap as Korra. The two got on their on guard lines and the bout began.

The first three engagements were simultaneous direct attacks. No points were awarded and as far as Kuvira could tell, neither had done anything different or gotten much of a gauge of skill. P’Li did however make louder and louder yells each time she attacked. Making minor yells or shouts in fencing while scoring a touch was fine. Korra sometimes shouted for victories to boost herself up, too. But excessive noise is not legal but rarely enforced. 

On the fourth engagement Korra did a tight sweeping circle of the blade on her attack. She took control and slid her tip onto her opponent’s mask getting a clean one light touch. Her touch was so speedy that P’Li did not have a chance to give her attack yell.

On the following attack P’Li countered the circle and both landed for yet another simultaneous attack. P’Li was back to yelling again. The habit was beginning to get on Kuvira’s nerves and she could not imagine how Korra was able to stand it. Again no point was awarded as the referee did not feel either had clear control of the blade despite the attention drawing yells that the older fencer was using to divert attention. 

The score slowly worked its way up to five to four in Korra’s favor. Each time Korra tried something new to avoid P’Li’s control the tall woman found a counter. For a saber bout it seemed to take ages. Kuvira and Asami grew restless watching the bout and became increasingly more vocal on the sidelines. 

The referee called “fence” and in the blink of an eye the tall woman flunged at Korra giving her largest shout yet. The sound boomed even in the crowded stadium. Korra had barely registered the referee's call before the scoring machine registered the touch to her arm. It had all happened so much faster than P’Li’s previous attacks that it left all three of the RCU students reeling. 

Each fencer went back to their line, Korra stealing a moment to review the engagement in her head by bending her blade back and forth as though trying to get the right curve on it. She turned and settled into her on guard position and nodded when the referee asked “ready?”

The two engaged again. Biding her time Korra drew P’Li in trying to encourage the other woman to attack. Braid flying, the tall woman finally moved in doing a neat feint and closing the distance with her usual speed and noise. Korra was ready. She flicked at the blade and sent it away from its intended target and landed her touch P’Li’s waist. 

Both colored lights were on the machine. Nonetheless the Red Lotus member turned and pumped her fist as though she had the point. “Attack lands.” The referee held up his hand on P’Li’s side awarding Korra’s opponent the point. 

“Sir, I am sorry, there was blade contact, did you not hear it?” Asked Korra incredulously. She indicated the parry she had made and that she had done a clean riposte, her opponent’s touch had been a remise. In the meantime, P’Li was just pacing impatiently at her end of the strip, without showing any interest in the dispute, as if she had not been involved in the exchange at all. As they were not in the quarter finals, there was no video to review of the touch. No challenge could really be called. 

The referee shook his head and strongly indicated that Korra would have to go back to her line and give up the challenge. She could only hope that by questioning the call, if a similar action came up again, the referee would award the point appropriately. 

Kuvira shot a look towards Tenzin. He was pulling on his goatee so hard she was concerned his chin would go the same way as his head. It was all he could do to not snap in frustration at the referee for the bad call. 

Korra switched back to attack again on the next touch. She artfully avoided P’Li’s searching weapon and caught the edge of her cuff. The machine went off, but with the wrong color light. The touch was awarded again to her opponent. Korra asked if she could test her weapon on the cuff wondering if perhaps there was a dead spot where the circuit could not be closed. The referee let Korra touch her weapon to the cuff on a spot near where she had thought she had made contact. 

“A shoddy workman always blames his tools” said a voice nearby Kuvira. She looked to see Zaheer smiling wickedly at his own humor. His arms comfortably wrapped around his chest. His legs were pulled up in a lotus position. The man’s emotion seemed absolutely detached from the heated bout that was happening right in front of him. 

The machine dutifully went off even though from her vantage point Kuvira could see a clear balding spot on the cuff’s silver mesh. Korra returned to her line again disappointed, shaking her head ever so slightly. 

Although the next two engagements were once again simultaneous, P’Li loudly shouted and celebrated her non-touch. Kuvira could see Korra wince on one of these touches and rub where P’Li had hit her. Clearly the older woman was hitting hard on her touches. Normally saber fencers at their level had so much control that their weapons never left a bruise on opponents unless it was a tip touch. P’Li was extra aggressive and managed to have the tip whip hard on impact. For large and colorful bruises, epees were the most common, but P’Li’s hits were possibly leaving those nasty risen welts. 

By the time they reached the break the score was eight to five in P’Li’s favor. Combined with the shouting, the hard hits, P’Li using her height to full advantage and hitting Korra much harder than strictly necessary she had eked ahead in points. 

Tenzin and Bumi appeared at Korra’s side as if by magic. Kuvira’s inferior understanding of the finer points of saber meant that she probably was of no use offering any advice and so stayed rooted where she was in the spectator area. 

Korra’s usual cheery demeanor was replaced with a scowl and a frown. Tenzin gave her coaching and Bumi nodded in agreement with whatever he was recommending for once. It was unclear if Korra actually took any of that in. The deficit was not insurmountable, but she had been embarrassed by being shut out for so many points in a row.

Kuvira looked over at the other end of the strip. Zaheer offered P’Li a rag to wipe her brow which she politely declined. Their exchange was calm and in no hurry at all. There was little to no tension on the faces of any of the Red Lotus team. Over by P’Li’s fencing bag Ming-hua was situated with the fourth member of the group, a thin framed, but muscular guy with greasy hair. Neither had even so much as looked up from their conversation to approach P’Li. 

The referee called time and the two competitors returned to their lines and prepared for another engagement. 

Early in the bout Asami’s face had been full of excitement. She would periodically put her hands around her mouth to form a megaphone to cheer for Korra in eagerness. As the bout progressed she had grown completely quiet with the worry that she had not been able to hide.

With a blink of an eye the bout worked up to twelve to six. Korra only scored one point since the break. They engaged again and this time Korra was pushing forward putting P’Li on the back foot and well into her warning line. _At least she is still fighting._ There was some weird comfort to be found that Korra had not given up. The young sabuerist closed by doing a great big jump leading into a lunge. The referee called halt and awarded the point once again to P’Li who in theory did a parry-riposte, but Kuvira was hard pressed to see when she actually parried. 

“Oh no,” Asami reached down and gripped Kuvira’s wrist tightly. She needed an anchor point of her own to steady herself. “Korra’s leg.” Kuvira had seen it too. Korra limped most of the strip back to her on guard line protecting her back leg. Clearly she had hurt her leg somehow during the lunge and had no point to show for it. 

When she got to her line Korra stretched a bit and was testing out her back leg and more specifically her knee. Tenzin had moved up to the side of the strip and conferred with her in a sharp whisper. Korra shook her head and indicated that Tenzin should back off.

Korra shook herself out and got back to on guard, but not without a wince. 

It was the small things. Kuvira could see it finally. It was the small doubts P’li had planted since the very beginning. The simultaneous touches, the loud yelling, an unfair call here and there, some overhittings, and eventually a physically and mentally weakened Korra. The bout had opened up to an almost insurmountable deficit and with each second Asami was gripping her wrist tighter and tighter.

“Fence!” 

Kuvira forced herself to keep her eyes open and not wince at what she knew was coming. P’Li moved more slowly forward than she had before, checking to see if Korra really was hurt. Korra moved almost normally. There was a brief clash of weapons then they both backed off. As fast as lightning again P’Li moved forward and Korra tried to draw back. She did not make it more than a few retreats before she awkwardly fell back landing on her butt just as the machine buzzed.

Asami let go of Kuvira’s aching wrist and dashed past Tenzin and Bumi towards where Korra had landed. Korra gingerly pushed herself back onto her feet. Kuvira could just overhear Asami begging for Korra to call a “Medical Time-Out”. But Korra simply shook her head and went back to it. Asami returned to her seat with an ashened face.

All P’Li needed was one more point to win the bout. When the referee called “fence” P’Li launched from the line and rushed towards a waiting Korra, whose blade was up to clearly establish a point-in-line. There was a clink from Korra’s guard as P’Li’s weapon hit it so hard that the blade bent around it and the tip touched Korra’s cuff. The machine registered both colored lights. The referee blithely called it a beat attack from P’Li despite her not having cleared the danger of Korra’s weapon before her touch. By this point Kuvira just assumed that the referee was not using all of his senses and letting himself be swayed by the pace of the bout and by P’Li’s celebratory fist pumps after each light.

Korra was dumbfounded but somehow still managed to salute her opponent and shake P’Li’s hand. The Red Lotus member bounced in unrestrained glee as P’li took the score card to the Bout Committee. 

Korra took a step off of the elevated strip. She slowly lowered herself to sit at the edge of the strip ignoring the nearby steps. Her mask fell from her fingers. Her brown hair was matted across her forehead. 

The rest of the Red Lotus Team was celebrating just a couple of feet away from her.

Korra’s eyes looked lifeless. She just sat there still processing what had happened. She had been squarely beaten on her own turf. Most of the competitors were people she had seen for years on the circuit, but P’Li and her friends had practically come out of nowhere to knock her out of the round of 32.

Everyone around Kuvira was in shock. A muscle in Tenzin’s jaw was popping up and down as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. Bumi’s head was buried in his hands. Asami was gripping the water bottle so tight that her knuckles were white. None of them saw this coming, and no one seemed to know what to do either.

After a few minutes of silence from Korra’s entourage the referee approached Korra who was still sitting motionless on the end of the strip. He said something, but Korra just looked up at him with a groggy expression. The tournament official had to repeat his request. They needed the strip for the next bout. Korra had to unhook and make way for the next set of fencers. 

The second time Korra understood. She pushed herself up with both hands at either side of her hips. A simple, intuitive action. Just as her hip hovered over the strip, with a wobble, she immediately sat back down.

Besides Kuvira, Asami lurched forward towards Korra whose expression had turned from distress to pain. “What’s going on?”

Korra seemed to be thinking the same thing. She looked down at her legs in confusion and tried again. She managed to put some weights on her feet before her knees buckled and she fell forward.

“Korra!” Asami called practically thrusting the water bottle into Kuvira’s confused hands. Tenzin surged forward, his red warm-up flapped behind him. He kneeled to one side of Korra while Asami kneeled down on the other. Her expression looked both pained and terrified.

Kuvira regained her own composure and picked up Korra’s weapon and mask while Asami unhooked the bodycord and returned the loose end to the reel. 

Korra’s voice formed a shaky “I can’t feel my legs…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dutiful footnotes return:  
> 1 I would like to say that this is pure fiction, but I have heard similar sentences from older fencers upset that there are not enough fencers at clubs that are adults. Adults are fickle when it comes to being consistent about wanting to pay for lessons/classes/floor fees, but sports parents will make sure that their kids go fence, no matter what.  
> 2 A single major tournament can be absolutely packed. Open means mixed Men’s and Women’s, but along with Foil, Epee, Saber there can be age divisions for Cadet, Junior, Y14, Y12, Y10 and Veterans (over 40, over 50, 60, 70 and now 80). Confused? Not surprising.  
> 3 No, I totally did not get a fresh haircut when I realized I was gay, nope, not at all. -Sabrepunk.
> 
> \--------  
> Ok, I know. We are SO sorry. Please feel free to chastise our cruelty in the comments! We would love to be yelled at. See, maybe it wasn't too bad that it took so long between last chapter and this - so you can keep the happy feelings alive longer!


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